


'K 



% .^^' 









>0^ 



'^^ 
/' "-^ 






» 1 ^ 






,0c^ 



%.^' 



-> A"- 






^■^ J" 


















\' s 


















.•-is^ 






^0' 






^ - 



,0o^ 






■0- ^ 









A^* '^P 












:^^ 






•%^^'- 
^ .X^^'^^. 









^O'^ 



cP\ 



o 



x^^. 



THE STORY OF A CANNONEER UNDER 
STONEWALL JACKSON 



L 




General "Stonewall" Jackson 



The Story of a Cannoneer 
Under Stonewall Jackson 



IN WHICH IS TOLD THE PART TAKEN BY THE 

ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY IN THE ARMY 

OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA 



BY 

EDWARD A. MOORE 

Of the Rockbridge Artillery 



WITH INTRODUCTIONS BY 

CAPT. ROBERT E. LEE, Jr., and HON. HENRY 
ST. GEORGE TUCKER 



Fully Illustrated by Portraits 



LYNCHBURG, VA. 

J. P. BELL COMPANY, INC. 

1910 



Copyright, 1907, by 
EDWARD A. MOORE 



^CIA280478 



To THE Spartan Mother 

WHO UNFLINCHINGLY SENT HER FOUR SONS 
TO THE FIELD 

AND 

To THE Wife 

WITHOUT WHOSE ASSISTANCE AND ENCOURAGEMENT 

IT WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN WRITTEN, 

THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED 



PREFACE 

More than thirty years ago, at the solicitation 
of my kinsman, H. C. McDowell, of Kentucky, I 
undertook to write a sketch of my war experience. 
McDowell was a major in the Federal Army during 
the civil war, and with eleven first cousins, includ- 
ing Gen. Irvin McDowell, fought against the same 
number of first cousins in the Confederate Army. 
Various interruptions prevented the completion of 
my work at that time. More recently, after despair- 
ing of the hope that some more capable member of 
my old command, the Rockbridge Artillery, would 
not allow its history to pass into oblivion, I resumed 
the task, and now present this volume as the only 
published record of that company, celebrated as it 
was even in that matchless body of men, the Army 
of Northern Virginia. 

E. A. M. 



INTRODUCTION BY HENRY ST. GEORGE 
TUCKER 

Between 1740 and 1750 nine brothers by the 
name of Moore emigrated from the north of Ireland 
to America. Several of them settled in South Caro- 
lina, and of these quite a number participated in the 
Revolutionary War, several being killed in battle. 
One of the nine brothers, David by name, came to 
Virginia and settled in the "Borden Grant," now 
the northern part of Rockbridge County. There, 
in 1752, his son, afterward known as Gen. Andrew 
Moore, was born. His mother was a Miss Evans, 
of Welsh ancestry. Andrew Moore was educated 
at an academy afterward known as Liberty Hall. 
In early life with some of his companions he made 
a voyage to the West Indies ; was shipwrecked, but 
rescued, after many hardships, by a passing vessel 
and returned to the Colonies. Upon his return home 
he studied law in the office of Chancellor Wythe, at 
Williamsburg, and was licensed to practice law in 
1774. In 1776 he entered the army as lieutenant, 
in Morgan's Riflemen, and was engaged in those 
battles which resulted in the capture of Burgoyne's 
army, and at the surrender of the British forces at 
Saratoga. For courage and gallantry in battle he 
was promoted to a captaincy. Having served three 

15 



16 INTRODUCTION 

years with Morgan, he returned home and took his 
seat as a member of the Virginia legislature, taking 
such an active and distinguished part in the delib- 
erations of that body that he was elected to Con- 
gress, and as a member of the first House of Rep- 
resentatives was distinguished for his services to 
such a degree that he was re-elected at each suc- 
ceeding election until 1797, when he declined fur- 
ther service in that body, but accepted a seat in the 
Virginia House of Delegates. He was again elected 
to Congress in 1804, but in the first year of his 
service he was elected to the United States Senate, 
in which body he served with distinguished ability 
until 1809. when he retired. He was then appointed 
United States Marshal for the District of Virginia, 
which office he held until his death, April 14, 1821. 
His brother William served as a soldier in the In- 
dian wars, and the Revolutionary War. He was a 
lieutenant of riflemen at Pt. Pleasant, and carried 
his captain, who had been severely wounded, from 
the field of battle, after killing the Indian who was 
about to scalp him — a feat of courage and strength 
rarely equaled. Gen. Andrew Moore's wife was 
Miss Sarah Reid, a descendant of Capt. John Mc- 
Dowell, who was killed by the Indians. December 
18, 1742, on James River, in Rockbridge County. 
She was the daughter of Capt. Andrew Reid, a 
soldier of the French and Indian War. 

Our auth(^r's father was Capt. David E. Moore, 
for twenty-three years the Attorney for the Com- 



INTRODUCTION 17 

moiiAvealth for Rockbridge County, and a member 
of the Constitutional Convention, 1850-51. His 
mother was Miss Elizabeth Harvey, a descendant 
of Benjamin Borden, and daughter of Matthew 
Harvey, who at sixteen years of age ran away from 
home and became a member of "Lee's Legion," 
participating in the numerous battles in which that 
distinguished corps took part. 

Thus it will be seen that our author is of martial 
stock and a worthy descendant of those who never 
failed to respond to the call to arms; the youngest 
of four brothers, one of whom surrendered under 
General Johnston, the other three at Appomattox, 
after serving throughout the war. It is safe to say 
that Virginia furnished to the Confederate service 
no finer examples of true valor than our author and 
his three brothers. 

Henry St. George Tucker. 
Lexington, Va., 

December 20, 1906. 




jiWAiii) A. Mooiii: 
(1007) 



THE STORY OF A CANNONEER UNDER 
STONEWALL JACKSON 



CHAPTER I 

WASHINGTON COLLEGE LEXINGTON — VIRGINIA 

MILITARY INSTITUTE 

At the age of eighteen I was a member of the 
Junior Class at Washington College at Lexington, 
Virginia, during the session of 1860-61, and with 
the rest of the students was more interested in the 
foreshadowings of that ominous period than in the 
teachings of the professors. Among our number 
there were a few from the States farther south who 
seemed to have been born secessionists, while a large 
majority of the students were decidedly in favor of 
the Union. 

Our president, the Rev. Dr. George Junkin, who 
hailed from the North, was heart and soul a Union 
man, notwithstanding the fact that one of his 
daughters was the first wife of Major Thomas J. 
Jackson, who developed into the world-renowned 
"Stonewall" Jackson. Another daughter was the 
great Southern poetess, Mrs. Margaret J. Preston, 
and Dr. Junkin' s son, Rev. W. F. Junkin, a most 

19 



20 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

lovable man, became an ardent Southern soldier and 
a chaplain in the Confederate Army throughout the 
war. 

At the anniversary of the Washington Literary 
Society, on February 22, 1861, the right of seces- 
sion was attacked and defended by the participants 
in the discussion, with no less zeal than they after- 
ward displayed on many bloody battlefields. 

We had as a near neighbor the Virginia Military 
Institute, "The West Point of the South," where 
scores of her young chivalry were assembled, who 
were eager to put into practice the subjects taught 
in their school. Previous to these exciting times 
not the most kindly feelings, and but little inter- 
course had existed between the two bodies of young 
men. The secession element in the College, how- 
ever, finding more congenial company among the 
cadets, opened up the way for quite intimate and 
friendly relations between the two institutions. In 
January, 1860, the corps of cadets had been ordered 
by Governor Wise to be present, as a military guard, 
at the execution of John Brown at Harper's Ferry. 
After their return more than the usual time was 
given to the drill ; and target-shooting with cannon 
and small arms was daily practised in our hearing. 

Only a small proportion of the citizens of the 
community favored secession, but they were very 
aggressive. One afternoon, while a huge Union 
flag-pole was being raised on the street, whicli when 
half-way up snapped and fell to the ground in 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 21 

pieces, I witnessed a personal encounter between a 
cadet and a mechanic (the latter afterward deserted 
from our battery during the Gettysburg campaign 
in Pennsylvania, his native State), which was 
promptly taken up by their respective friends. The 
cadets who were present hastened to their barracks 
and, joined by their comrades, armed themselves, 
and w^ith fixed bayonets came streaming at double- 
quick toward the town. They were met at the end 
of Main street by their professors, conspicuous 
among whom was Colonel Colston on horseback. 
He was a native of France and professor of French 
at the Listitute ; he became a major-general in the 
Confederate Army and later a general in the Egyp- 
tian Army. After considerable persuasion the ca- 
dets were induced to return to their barracks. 

Instead of the usual Saturday night debates of 
the College literary societies, the students either 
joined the cadets in their barracks at the Institute 
or received them at the College halls to harangue 
on the one absorbing topic. 

On the top of the main building at the College 
was a statue of Washington, and over this statue 
some of the students hoisted a palmetto flag. This 
greatly incensed our president. He tried, for some 
time, but in vain, to have the flag torn down. When 
my class went at the usual hour to his room to re- 
cite, and before we had taken our seats, he inquired 
if the flag was still flying. On being told that it 
was, he said, "The class is dismissed ; I will never 



22 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

hear a recitation under a traitor's flag!" And 
away we went. 

Lincoln's proclamation calling for 75,000 men 
to whip in the seceded States, was immediately fol- 
lowed by the ordinance of secession, and the idea 
of union was abandoned by all. Recitation-bells no 
longer sounded; our books were left to gather dust, 
and forgotten, save only to recall those scenes that 
filled our minds with the mighty deeds and prowess 
of such characters as the "Ruling Agamemnon" 
and his warlike cohorts, and we could almost hear 
"the terrible clang of striking spears against shields, 
as it resounded throughout the army." 

There was much that seems ludicrous as we re- 
call it now. The youths of the community, imbued 
with the idea that "cold steel" would play an im- 
portant part in the conflict, provided themselves 
with huge bowie-knives, fashioned by our home 
blacksmith, and with these fierce weapons swing- 
ing from their belts were much in evidence. There 
were already several organized military companies 
in the county. The Rockbridge Rifles, and a com- 
pany of cavalry left Lexington April 17, under or- 
ders from Governor John Letcher, our townsman, 
who had just been inaugurated Governor of Vir- 
ginia, to report at Harper's Ferry. The cavalry 
company endeavored to make the journey without 
a halt, and did march the first sixty-four miles in 
twenty- four hours. 

The students formed a company with J. J. \\'hite. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 23 

professor of Greek, as their captain. Drilling was 
the occupation of the day; the students having ex- 
cellent instructors in the cadets and their profes- 
sors. Our outraged president had set out alone in 
his private carriage for his former home in the 
North. 

Many of the cadets were called away as drill- 
masters at camps established in different parts of 
the South, and later became distinguished officers 
in the Confederate Army, as did also a large num- 
ber of the older alumni of the Institute. 

The Rockbridge Artillery Company was organ- 
ized about this time, and, after a fortnight's drill- 
ing with the cadet's battery, was ordered to the 
front, under command of Rev. W. N. Pendleton, 
rector of the Episcopal Church, and a graduate of 
West Point, as captain. 

The cadets received marching orders, and on that 
morning, for the first time since his residence in 
Lexington, Major Jackson was seen in his element. 
As a professor at the Virginia Military Institute he 
was remarkable only for strict punctuality and dis- 
cipline. I, with one of my brothers, had been as- 
signed to his class in Sunday-school, where his regu- 
lar attendance and earnest manner were equally 
striking. 

It was on a beautiful Sunday morning in May 
that the cadets received orders to move, and I re- 
member how we were all astonished to see the 
Christian major, galloping to and fro on a spirited 
horse, preparing for their departure. 



24 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

In the arsenal at the Institute were large stores 
of firearms of old patterns, which were hauled away 
from time to time to supply the troops. I, with five 
others of the College company, was detailed as a 
guard to a convoy of wagons, loaded with these 
arms, as far as Staunton. We were all al)out the 
same size, and with one exception members of the 
same class. In the first battle of Manassas four of 
the five present — Charles Bell, William Wilson, Wil- 
liam Paxton and Benjamin Bradley — were killed, 
and William Anderson, now Attorney-General of 
Virginia, was maimed for life. 

There was great opposition on the part of the 
friends of the students to their going into the ser- 
vice, at any rate in one body, but they grew more 
and more impatient to be ordered out, and felt 
decidedly offended at the delay. 

Finally, in June, the long-hoped-for orders came. 
The town was filled with people from far and near, 
and every one present, old and young, white and 
black, not only shed tears, but actually sobbed. My 
father had positively forbidden my going, as his 
other three sons, older than myself, were already in 
the field. After this my time was chiefly occupied 
in drilling militia in different parts of the country. 
And I am reminded to this day by ni}- friends the 
daughters of General Pendleton of my apprehen- 
sions "lest the war should be over before I should 
get a trip." 




L < 






2 > 

T. S 



CHAPTER II 

ENTERING THE SERVICE MY FIRST BATTLE BATTLE 

OF KERNSTOWN 

Jackson's first engagement took place at Haines- 
ville, near Martinsburg, on July 2, one of the Rock- 
bridge Artillery guns firing the first hostile cannon- 
shot fired in the Valley of Virginia. This gun is 
now in the possession of the Virginia Military In- 
stitute, and my brother David fired the shot. Be- 
fore we knew that Jackson was out of the Valley, 
news came of the battle of First Manassas, in which 
General Bee conferred upon him and his brigade 
the soubriquet of "Stonewall," and by so doing 
likened himself to "Homer, who immortalized the 
victory won by Achilles." 

In this battle the Rockbridge Artillery did splen- 
did execution without losing a man, while the in- 
fantry in their rear, and for their support, suffered 
dreadfully. The College company alone (now Com- 
pany I of the Fourth Virginia Regiment) lost seven 
killed and many wounded. 

In August it was reported that a force of Federal 
cavalry was near the White Sulphur Springs, on 
their way to Lexington. Numbers of men from the 
hills and mountains around gathered at Colliers- 
town, a straggling village in the western portion of 

25 



26 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

the county, and I spent the greater part of the night 
driUing them in the town-hall, getting news from 
time to time from the pickets in the mountain-pass. 
The prospect of meeting so formidable a band had 
doubtless kept the Federals from even contemplat- 
ing such an expedition. 

The winter passed drearily along, the armies in 
all directions having only mud to contend with. 

Since my failure to leave with the College com- 
pany it had been my intention to join it the first 
opportunity; but, hearing it would be disbanded in 
the spring, I enlisted in the Rockbridge Artillery 
attached to the Stonewall Brigade, and with about 
fifty other recruits left Lexington ]\Iarch 10, 1862, 
to join Jackson, then about thirty miles south of 
Winchester. Some of us traveled on horseback, 
and some in farm-wagons secured for the purpose. 
We did not create the sensation we had anticipated, 
either on leaving Lexington or along the road ; still 
we had plenty of fun. I remember one of the party 
— a fellow with a very large chin, as well as cheek — 
riding up close to a house by the roadside in the 
door of which stood a woman with a number of 
children around her, and, taking ofif his hat, said, 
"God bless you, madam! May you raise many for 
the Southern Confederacy." 

We spent Saturday afternoon and night in Staun- 
ton, and were quartered in a hotel kept by a sour- 
looking old Frenchman. We were given an abom- 
inable supper, the hash especially being a most mys- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 27 

terious-looking dish. After retiring to our blankets 
on the floor, I heard two of the party, who had par- 
taken of some of Bumgardner's mountain dew, dis- 
cussing the situation generally, and, among other 
things, surmising as to the ingredients of the sup- 
per's hash, when Winn said, "Bob, I analyzed that 
hash. It was made of buttermilk, dried apple, dam- 
sons and wool !" 

The following day, Sunday, was clear and beau- 
tiful. We had about seventy miles to travel along 
the Valley turnpike. In passing a stately residence, 
on the porch of which the family had assembled, 
one of our party raised his hat in salutation. Not 
a member of the family took the least notice of the 
civility ; but a negro girl, who was sweeping off the 
pavement in front, flourished her broom around her 
head most enthusiastically, which raised a general 
shout. 

We arrived at Camp Buchanan, a few miles be- 
low Mount Jackson, on Monday afternoon. I then, 
for the first time since April, 1861, saw my brother 
John. How tough and brown he looked ! He had 
been transferred to the Rockbridge Artillery 
shortly before the first battle of Manassas, and with 
my brother David belonged to a mess of as interest- 
ing young men as I ever knew. Some of them I 
have not seen for more than forty years. Mention- 
ing their names may serve to recall incidents con- 
nected with them : My two brothers, both graduates 
of Washington College; Berkeley Minor, a student 



28 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

of the University of Virginia, a perfect bookworm; 
Alex. Boteler, student of the University of Vir- 
ginia, son of Hon. Alex. Boteler, of West Virginia, 
and his two cousins, Henry and Charles Boteler, of 
Shepherdstown, West Virginia; Thompson and 
Magruder Maury, both clergymen after the war ; 
Joe Shaner, of Lexington, Virginia, as kind a friend 
as I ever had, and who carried my blanket for me 
on his off -horse at least one thousand miles; John 
M. Gregory, of Charles City County, an A. M. of 
the University of Virginia. How distinctly I recall 
his large, well-developed head, fair skin and clear 
blue eyes ; and his voice is as familiar to me as if I 
had heard it yesterday. Then the brothers, Walter 
and Joe Packard, of the neighborhood of Alexan- 
dria, Virginia, sons of the Rev. Dr. Packard, of 
the Theological Seminary, and both graduates of 
colleges ; Frank Preston, of Lexington, graduate of 
Washington College, who died soon after the war 
while professor of Greek at William and Mary Col- 
lege, a whole-souled and most companionable fel- 
low ; William Boiling, of Fauquier County, student 
of the University of Virginia; Frank Singleton, of 
Kentucky, student of the University of Virginia, 
whom William Williamson, another member of the 
mess and a graduate of Washington College, pro- 
nounced "always a gentleman." Williamson was 
quite deaf, and Singleton always, in the gentlest 
and most patient way, would repeat for his benefit 
anything he failed to hear. Last, and most interest- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 29 

ing of all, was George Bedinger, of Sheperdstown, 
a student of the University of Virginia. 

There were men in the company from almost 
every State in the South, and several from North- 
ern States. Among the latter were two sons of 
Commodore Porter, of the United States Navy, 
one of whom went by the name of "Porter-he," 
from his having gone with Sergeant Paxton to visit 
some young ladies, and, on their return, being asked 
how they had enjoyed their visit, the sergeant said, 
"Oh, splendidly! and Porter, he were very much 
elated." 

Soon after my arrival supper was ready, and I 
joined the mess in my first meal in camp, and was 
astonished to see how they relished fat bacon, "flap- 
jacks" and strong black coffee in big tin cups. The 
company was abundantly supplied with first-rate 
tents, many of them captured from the enemy, and 
everybody seemed to be perfectly at home and 
happy. 

I bunked with my brother John, but there was no 
sleep for me that first night. There were just 
enough cornstalks under me for each to be dis- 
tinctly felt, and the ground between was exceed- 
ingly cold. We remained in this camp until the fol- 
lowing Friday, when orders came to move. 

We first marched about three miles south, or up 
the Valley, then countermarched, going about twenty 
miles, and on Sunday, March 23rd, twelve miles 
farther, which brought us, I thought, and it seemed 



30 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

to be the general impression, in rather close prox- 
imity to the enemy. There having been only a few 
skirmishes since Manassas in July, 1861, none of us 
dreamed of a battle ; but very soon a cannon boomed 
two or three miles ahead, then another and another. 
The boys said, "That's Chew's battery, under 
Ashby." 

Pretty soon Chew's battery was answered, and 
for the first time I saw and heard a shell burst, high 
in the air, leaving a little cloud of white smoke. On 
we moved, halting frequently, as the troops were 
being deployed in line of battle. Our battery turned 
out of the pike and we had not heard a shot for 
half an hour. In front of us lay a stretch of half 
a mile of level, open ground and beyond this a 
wooded hill, for which we seemed to be making. 
When half-way across the low ground, as I was 
walking by my gun, talking to a comrade at my side, 
a shell burst with a terrible crash — it seemed to me 
almost on my head. The concussion knocked me to 
my knees, and my comrade sprawling on the ground. 
We then began to feel that we were "going in," and 
a most weakening effect it had on the stomach. 

I recall distinctly the sad, solemn feeling pro- 
duced by seeing the ambulances brought up to the 
front; it was entirely too suggestive. Soon we 
reached the woods and were ascending the hill along 
a little ravine, for a position, when a solid shot 
broke the trunnions of one of the guns, thus dis- 
abling it ; then another, nearly spent, struck a tree 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 31 

about half-way up and fell nearby. Just after we 
got to the top of the hill, and within fifty or one 
hundred yards of the position we were to take, a 
shell struck the off- wheel horse of my gun and 
burst. The horse was torn to pieces, and the pieces 
thrown in every direction. The saddle-horse was 
also horribly mangled. The leg of the driver, W. H. 
Byrd, was shot off, as was also the foot of O. P. 
Gray, who was walking along-side. Both men died 
that night. A white horse working in the lead looked 
more like a bay after the catastrophe. To one who 
had been in the army but five days, and but five 
minutes under fire, this seemed an awful introduc- 
tion. 

The other guns of the battery had gotten into 
position before we had cleared up the wreck of our 
team and put in two new horses. As soon as this 
was done we pulled up to where the other guns 
were firing, and passed by a member of the com- 
pany, John Wallace, horribly torn by a shell, but 
still alive. On reaching the crest of the hill, which 
was clear open ground, we got a full view of the 
enemy's batteries on the hills opposite. 

In the woods on our left, and a few hundred 
yards distant, the infantry were hotly engaged, the 
small arms keeping up an incessant roar. Neither 
side seemed to move an inch. From about the Fed- 
eral batteries in front of us came regiment after 
regiment of their infantry, marching in line of bat- 
tle, with the Stars and Stripes flying, to join in the 



Z2 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

attack on our infantry, who were not being rein- 
forced at all, as everything but the Fifth Virginia 
had been engaged from the first. We did some fine 
shooting at their advancing infantry, their batteries 
having almost quit firing. The battle had now con- 
tinued for two or three hours. Now, for the first 
time, I heard the keen whistle of the Minie-ball. Our 
infantry was being driven back and the Federals 
were in close pursuit. 

Seeing the day was lost, we were ordered to lim- 
ber up and leave. Just then a large force of the 
enemy came in sight in the woods on our left. The 
gunner of the piece nearest them had his piece loaded 
with canister, and fired the charge into their ranks 
as they crowded through a narrow opening in a 
stone fence. One of the guns of the battery, having 
several of its horses killed, fell into the hands of 
the enemy. About this time the Fifth Virginia 
Regiment, which, through some misunderstanding 
of orders, had not been engaged, arrived on the 
crest of the hill, and I heard General Jackson, as he 
rode to their front, direct the men to form in line 
and check the enemy. But everything else was now 
in full retreat, with Minie-balls to remind us that it 
would not do to stop. Running back through the 
woods, I passed close by John Wallace as he lay 
dying. Night came on opportunely and put an end 
to the pursuit, and to the taking of prisoners, though 
we lost several hundred men. I afterward heard 
Capt. George Junkin, nephew of the Northern col- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 33 

lege president, and General Jackson's adjutant, say 
that he had the exact number of men engaged on 
our side, and that there were 2,700 in the battle. The 
enemy's official report gave their number as 8,000. 

It was dusk when I again found myself on the 
turnpike, and I followed the few indistinct moving 
figures in the direction of safety. I stopped for a 
few minutes near a camp-fire, in a piece of woods, 
where our infantry halted, and I remember hearing 
the colored cook of one of their messes asking in 
piteous tones, over and over again, "Marse George, 
Where's Marse Charles?" No answer was made, 
but the sorrowful face of the one interrogated was 
response enough. I got back to the village of New- 
town, about three miles from the battlefield, where 
I joined several members of the battery at a hos- 
pitable house. Here we were kindly supplied with 
food, and, as the house was full, were allowed to 
sleep soundly on the floor. This battle was known 
as Kernstown. 

The Confederate loss was : 80 killed, 375 wound- 
ed, 263 captured; total, 718. 

Federal loss: 118 killed, 450 wounded, 22 miss- 
ing; total, 590. 

General Jackson was greatly disturbed at being 
defeated in this battle (claiming that the retreat was 
premature), and not until it was fully demonstrated 
by brigade and regimental officers that the infantry 
yielded only when their ammunition was exhausted 
did he seem to be reconciled. The effects of it, how- 



34 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ever, were far-reaching, as some 40,000 Federals 
in armies for the protection of Washington were 
prevented from going to join McClellan's advance 
on Richmond. 

In regard to this battle Gen. Jackson wrote to 
his wife as follows : 

"You appear to be much concerned at my attack- 
ing on Sunday. I am greatly concerned too 
and I hope and pray to our Heavenly Father that I 
may never again be circumstanced as on that day." 

In this sentiment many of us fully concurred. 



CHAPTER III 

THE RETREAT CEDAR CREEK GENERAL ASHBY 

SKIRMISHES m'GAHEYSVILLE 

The next dawn brought a raw, gloomy Monday. 
We found the battery a mile or two from the battle- 
field, where we lay all day, thinking, of course, the 
enemy would follow up their victory; but this they 
showed no inclination to do. On Tuesday we moved 
a mile or more toward our old camp — Buchanan. 
On Wednesday, about noon, we reached Cedar 
Creek, the scene of one of General Early's battles 
more than two years afterward, 1864. The creek 
ran through a narrow defile, and, the bridge having 
been burned, we crossed in single file, on the charred 
timbers, still clinging together and resting on the 
surface of the water. Just here, for the first time 
since Kernstown, the Federal cavalry attacked the 
rear of our column, and the news and commotion 
reached my part of the line when I was half-across 
the stream. The man immediately in front of me, 
being in too much of a hurry to follow the file on 
the bridge-planks, jumped frantically into the 
stream. He was fished out of the cold waters, 
shoulder deep, on the bayonets of the infantry on 
the timbers. 

35 



36 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

We found our wagons awaiting us on top of a 
high hill beyond, and went into camp about noon, 
to get up a whole meal, to which we thought we 
could do full justice. But, alas! alas! About the 
time the beans were done, and each had his share 
in a tin plate or cup, "bang!" went a cannon on the 
opposite hill, and the shell screamed over our heads. 
My gun being a rifled piece, was ordered to hitch up 
and go into position, and my appetite was gone. 
Turning to my brother, I said, "John, I don't want 
these beans !" My friend Bedinger gave me a home- 
made biscuit, which I ate as I followed the gun. We 
moved out and across the road with two guns, and 
took position one hundred yards nearer the enemy. 
The guns were unlimbered and loaded just in time 
to fire at a column of the enemy's cavalry which had 
started down the opposite hill at a gallop. The guns 
were discharged simultaneously, and the two shells 
burst in the head of their column, and by the time 
the smoke and dust had cleared up that squadron of 
cavalry was invisible. This check gave the wagons 
and troops time to get in marching order, and after 
firing a few more rounds we followed. 

As we drove into the road again, I saw several 
infantrymen lying, horribly torn by shells, and the 
clothes of one of them on fire. I afterward heard 
amusing accounts of the exit of the rest of the com- 
pany from this camp. Quartermaster "John D." 
had his teams at a full trot, with the steam flying 
from the still hot camp-kettles as they rocked to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 37 

and fro on the tops of the wagons. In a day or two 
we were again in Camp Buchanan, and pitched our 
tents on their old sites and kindled our fires with 
the old embers. Here more additions were made to 
the company, among them R. E. Lee, Jr., son of 
the General; Arthur Robinson, of Baltimore, and 
Edward Hyde, of Alexandria. After a few nights' 
rest and one or two square meals everything was as 
gay as ever. 

An hour or two each day was spent in going 
through the artillery manual. Every morning we 
heard the strong, clear voice of an infantry officer 
drilling his men, which I learned was the voice of 
our cousin, James Allen, colonel of the Second Vir- 
ginia Regiment. He was at least half a mile dis- 
tant. About the fourth or fifth day after our re- 
turn to camp we were ordered out to meet the 
enemy, and moved a few miles in their direction, 
but were relieved on learning that it was a false 
alarm, and counter-marched to the same camp. 
When we went to the wagons for our cooking uten- 
sils, etc., my heavy double blanket, brought from 
home, had been lost, which made the ground seem 
colder and the stalks rougher. With me the nights, 
until bedtime, were pleasant enough. There were 
some good voices in the company, two or three in 
our mess; Bedinger and his cousin. Alec Boteler, 
both sang well, but Boteler stammered badly when 
talking, and Bedinger kept him in a rage half the 
time mocking him, frequently advising him to go 



38 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

back home and learn to talk. Still they were bed- 
fellows and devoted friends. I feel as if I could 
hear Bedinger now, as he shifted around the fire, to 
keep out of the smoke, singing: 

"Though the world may call me gay, yet my feelings I smother. 
Oh! thou hast been the cause of this anguish — my mother." 

A thing that I was very slow to learn was to sit 
on the ground with any comfort; and a log or a 
fence, for a few minutes' rest, was a thing of joy. 
Then the smoke from the camp-fires almost suffo- 
cated me, and always seemed to blow toward me, 
though each of the others thought himself the fav- 
ored one. But the worst part of the twenty-four 
hours was from bedtime till daylight, half -awake 
and half-asleep and half-frozen. I was, since 
Kernstown, having that battle all over and over 
again. 

I noticed a thing in this camp (it being the first 
winter of the war), in which experience and neces- 
sity afterward made a great change. The soldiers, 
not being accustomed to fires out-of-doors, fre- 
quently had either the tails of their overcoats 
burned off, or big holes or scorched places in their 
pantaloons. 

Since Jackson's late reverse, more troops being 
needed, the militia had been ordered out, and the 
contingent from Rockbridge County was encamped 
a few miles in rear of us. I got permission from 
our captain to go to see them and hear the news from 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 39 

home. Among them were several merchants of 
Lexington, and steady old farmers from the county. 
They were much impressed with the accounts of the 
battle and spoke very solemnly of war. I had rid- 
den Sergeant Baxter McCorkle's horse, and, on my 
return, soon after passing through Mt. Jackson, 
overtook Bedinger and Charley Boteler, with a can- 
teen of French brandy which a surgeon- friend in 
town had given them. As a return for a drink, I 
asked Bedinger to ride a piece on my horse, which, 
for some time, he declined to do, but finally said, 
"All right; get down." He had scarcely gotten into 
the saddle before he plied the horse with hat and 
heels, and away he went down the road at full speed 
and disappeared in the distance. 

This was more kindness than I had intended, but 
it afforded a good laugh. Boteler and the brandy 
followed the horseman, and I turned in and spent 
the night with the College company, quartered close 
by as a guard to General Jackson's headquarters. I 
got back to camp the next afternoon, Sunday. 
McCorkle had just found his horse, still saddled and 
bridled, grazing in a wheat-field. 

From Camp Buchanan we fell back to Rude's 
Hill, four miles above Mt. Jackson and overlooking 
the Shenandoah River. About once in three days 
our two Parrott guns, to one of which I belonged, 
were sent down to General Ashby, some ten miles, 
for picket service to supply the place of Chew's bat- 
tery, which exhausted its ammunition in daily skirm- 



40 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ishes with the enemy. Ashby himself was always 
there; and an agreeable, unpretending gentleman he 
was. His complexion was very dark and his hair 
and beard as black as a raven. He was always in 
motion, mounted on one of his three superb stal- 
lions, one of which was coal-black, another a chest- 
nut sorrel, and the third white. On our first trip 
we had a lively cannonade, and the white horse in 
our team, still bearing the stains of blood from the 
Kernstown carnage, reared and plunged furiously 
during the firing. The Federal skirmish line was 
about a mile off, near the edge of some woods, and 
at that distance looked very harmless ; but when I 
looked at them through General Ashby's field-glass 
it made them look so large, and brought them so 
close, that it startled me. There was a fence inter- 
vening, and, on giving the glass a slight jar, I im- 
agined they jumped the fence; I preferred looking 
at them with the naked eye. Bob Lee volunteered 
to go with us another day (he belonged to another 
detachment). He seemed to enjoy the sport much. 
He had not been at Kernstown, and I thought if he 
had, possibly he would have felt more as did I and 
the white horse. 

On our way down on another expedition, hear- 
ing the enemy were driving in our pickets, and that 
we would probably have some lively work and run- 
ning, I left my blanket — a blue one I had recently 
borrowed — at the house of a mulatto woman by the 
roadside, and told her I would call for it as we came 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 41 

back. We returned soon, but the woman, learning 
that a battle was impending, had locked up and gone. 
This blanket was my only wrap during the chilly 
nights, so I must have it. The guns had gone on. 
As I stood deliberating as to what I should do, 
General Ashby came riding by. I told him my 
predicament and asked, "Shall I get in and get it?" 
He said, "Yes, certainly." With the help of an axe 
I soon had a window-sash out and my blanket in 
my possession. From these frequent picket excur- 
sions I got the name of "Veteran." My friend Boil- 
ing generously offered to go as my substitute on one 
expedition, but the Captain, seeing our two detach- 
ments were being overworked, had all relieved and 
sent other detachments with our guns. 

From Rude's Hill about fifty of us recruits were 
detailed to go to Harrisonburg — Lieutenant Gra- 
ham in command — to guard prisoners. The prison- 
ers were quartered in the courthouse. Among them 
were a number of Dunkards from the surrounding 
country, whose creed was "No fight." I was ap- 
pointed corporal, the only promotion I was honored 
with during the war, and that only for the detailed 
service. Here we spent a week or ten days, pleas- 
antly, with good fare and quarters. Things con- 
tinued quiet at the front during this time. 

The enemy again advanced, and quite a lively 
calvary skirmish was had from Mt. Jackson to the 
bridge across the Shenandoah. The enemy tried 
hard to keep our men from burning this bridge, and 



42 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

in the fray Ashby's white horse was mortally 
wounded under him and his own life saved by the 
daring interposition of one of his men. His horse 
lived to carry him out, but fell dead as soon as he 
had accomplished it ; and, after his death, every hair 
was pulled from his tail by Ashby's men as memen- 
toes of the occasion. 

Jackson fell back slowly, and, on reaching Har- 
risonburg, to our dismay, the head of the column 
filed to the left, on the road leading toward the Blue 
Ridge, thus disclosing the fact that the Valley was 
to be given up a prey to the enemy. Gloom was seen 
on every face at feeling that our homes were for- 
saken. We carried our prisoners along, and a mis- 
erable-looking set the poor Dunkards were, with 
their long beards and solemn eyes. A little fun, 
though, we would have. Every mile or so, and at 
every cross-road, a sign-post was stuck up, "Keezle- 
town Road, 2 miles," and of every countryman or 
darky along the way some wag would inquire the 
distance to Keezletown, and if he thought we could 
get there before night. 

By dawn next morning we were again on the 
march. I have recalled this early dawn oftener, I 
am sure, than any other of my whole life. Our 
road lay along the edge of a forest, occasionally 
winding in and out of it. At the more open places 
we could see the Blue Ridge in the near distance. 
During the night a slight shower had moistened the 
earth and leaves, so that our steps, and even the 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 43 

wheels of the artillery, were scarcely heard. Here 
and there on the roadside was the home of a sol- 
dier, in which he had just passed probably his last 
night. I distinctly recall now the sobs of a wife 
or mother as she moved about, preparing a meal for 
her husband or son, and the thoughts it gave rise 
to. Very possibly it helped also to remind us that 
we had left camp that morning without any break- 
fast ourselves. At any rate, I told my friend, Joe 
McCalpin, who was quite too modest a man to for- 
age, and face a strange family in quest of a meal, 
that if he would put himself in my charge I would 
promise him a good breakfast. 

In a few miles we reached McGaheysville, a quiet, 
comfortable little village away off in the hills. The 
sun was now up, and now was the time and this the 
place. A short distance up a cross-street I saw a 
motherly-looking old lady standing at her gate, 
watching the passing troops. Said I, "Mac, there's 
the place." We approached, and I announced the 
object of our visit. She said, "Breakfast is just 
ready. Walk in, sit down at the table, and make 
yourselves at home. A breakfast it was — fresh eggs, 
white light biscuit and other toothsome articles. A 
man of about forty-five years — a boarder — re- 
marked, at the table, "The war has not cost me the 
loss of an hour's sleep." The good mother said, 
with a quavering tone of voice, "/ have sons in the 
army." 



CHAPTER IV 

SWIFT RUN GAP REORGANIZATION OF THE BATTERY 

WADING IN THE MUD CROSSING AND 

RECROSSING THE BLUE RIDGE BATTLE OF 

MCDOWELL RETURN TO THE VALLEY 

We reached the south branch of the Shenandoah 
about noon, crossed on a bridge, and that night 
camped in Swift Run Gap. Our detail was sep- 
arated from the battery and I, therefore, not with 
my own mess. We occupied a low, flat piece of 
ground with a creek alongside and about forty 
yards from the tent in which I stayed. The priso- 
ners were in a barn a quarter of a mile distant. 
Here we had most wretched weather, real winter 
again, rain or snow almost all the time. One night 
about midnight I was awakened by hearing a horse 
splashing through water just outside of the tent and 
a voice calling to the inmates to get out of the flood. 
The horse was backed half into the tent-door, and, 
one by one, my companions left me. My bunk was 
on a little rise. I put my hand out — into the water. 
I determined, however, to stay as long as I could, 
and was soon asleep, which showed that I was be- 
coming a soldier — in one important respect at least. 
By daylight, the flood having subsided. I was able 
to reach a fence and "coon it" to a hill above. 

44 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 45 

While in this camp, as the time had expired for 
which most of the soldiers enlisted, the army was 
reorganized. The battery having more men than 
was a quota for one company, the last recruits were 
required to enlist in other companies or to exchange 
with older members who wished to change. Thus 
some of our most interesting members left us, to 
join other commands, and the number of our guns 
was reduced from eight to six. The prisoners were 
now disposed of, and I returned to my old mess. 
After spending about ten days in this wretched 
camp we marched again, following the Shenandoah 
River along the base of the mountains toward Port 
Republic. After such weather, the dirt-roads were, 
of course, almost bottomless. The wagons monopo- 
lized them during the day, so we had to wait until 
they were out of the way. When they halted for 
the night, we took the mud. The depth of it was 
nearly up to my knees and frequently over them. 
The bushes on the sides of the road, and the dark- 
ness, compelled us to wade right in. Here was 
swearing and growHng, "Flanders and Flounders." 
An infantryinan was cursing Stonewall most elo- 
quently, when the old Christian rode by, and, hear- 
ing him, said, in his short way, "It's for your own 
good, sir!" The wagons could make only six miles 
during the day, and, by traveling this distance after 
night, we reached them about nine o'clock. We 
would then build fires, get our cooking utensils, and 
cook our suppers, and, by the light of the fires, see 



46 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

our muddy condition and try to dry off before re- 
tiring to the ground. We engaged in this sort of 
warfare for three days, when we reached Port Re- 
pubhc, eighteen miles from our starting-point and 
about the same distance from Staunton. Our move- 
ments, or rather Jackson's, had entirely bewildered 
us as to his intentions. 

While we were at Swift Run, Swell's division, 
having been brought from the army around Rich- 
mond, was encamped just across the mountain op- 
posite us. We remained at Port Republic several 
days. Our company was convenient to a comfort- 
able farmhouse, where hot apple turnovers were 
constantly on sale. Our hopes for remaining in the 
Valley were again blasted when the wagons moved 
out on the Brown's Gap road and we followed 
across the Blue Ridge, making our exit from the 
pass a few miles north of Mechum's River, which 
we reached about noon of the following day. 

There had been a good deal of cutting at each 
other among the members of the company who 
hailed from different sides of the Blue Ridge — 
"Tuckahoes" and "Cohees," as they are provin- 
cially called. "Lit" Macon, formerly sheriff of 
Albemarle County, an incessant talker, had given 
us glowing accounts of the treatment we would re- 
ceive "on t'other side." "Jam puffs, jam puffs!" 
Joe Shaner and I, having something of a turn for 
investigating the resources of a new country, took 
the first opportunity of testing Macon's promised 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 47 

land. We selected a fine-looking house, and, ap- 
proaching it, made known our wants to a young 
lady. She left us standing outside of the yard, we 
supposed to cool off while she made ready for our 
entertainment in the house. In this we were mis- 
taken ; for, after a long time, she returned and 
handed us, through the fence, some cold corn-bread 
and bacon. This and similar experiences by others 
gave us ample means to tease Macon about the grand 
things we were to see and enjoy ''on t'other side." 
We were now much puzzled as to the meaning 
of this "wiring in and wiring out," as we had turned 
to the right on crossing the mountain and taken the 
road toward Staunton. To our astonishment we 
recrossed the mountain, from the top of which we 
again gazed on that grand old Valley, and felt that 
our homes might still be ours. A mile or two from 
the mountain lay the quiet little village of Waynes- 
boro, where we arrived about noon. As I was pass- 
ing along the main street, somewhat in advance of 
the battery, Frank Preston came running out of one 
of the houses— the Waddells'— and, with his usual 
take-no-excuse style, dragged me in to face a family 
of the prettiest girls in Virginia. I was immediately 
taken to the dining-room, where were "jam puffs" 
sure enough, and the beautiful Miss Nettie to di- 
vide my attention. 

The next day we camped near Staunton and re- 
mained a day. Conjecturing now as to Jackson's 
program was wild, so we concluded to let him have 



48 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

his own way. The cadets of the Virginia Military 
Institute, most of whom were boys under seventeen, 
had, in this emergency, been ordered to the field, 
and joined the line of march as we passed through 
Staunton, and the young ladies of that place made 
them the heroes of the army, to the disgust of the 
"Veterans" of the old Stonewall Brigade. Our 
course was now westward, and Milroy, who was too 
strong for General Ed. Johnson in the Alleghanies, 
was the object. About twenty miles west of Staun- 
ton was the home of a young lady friend, and, on 
learning that our road lay within four miles of it, 
I determined at least to try to see her. Sergeant 
Clem. Fishburne, who was related to the family, 
expected to go with me, but at the last moment gave 
it up, so I went alone. To my very great disap- 
pointment she was not at home, but her sisters en- 
tertained me nicely with music, etc., and filled my 
haversack before I left. Just before starting off in 
the afternoon I learned that cannonading had been 
heard toward the front. When a mile or two on 
my way a passing cavalryman, a stranger to me, 
kindly offered to carry my overcoat, which he did, 
and left it with the battery. 

The battery had marched about fifteen miles 
after I had left it, so I had to retrace my four miles, 
then travel the fifteen, crossing two mountains. I 
must have walked at least five miles an hour, as I 
reached the company before sundown. They had 
gone into camp. My brother John, and Frank 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 49 

Preston, seeing me approach, came out to meet me, 
and told me how excessively uneasy they had been 
about me all day. A battle had been fought and 
they had expected to be called on every moment, 
and, "Suppose we had gone in, and you off forag- 
ing!" How penitent I felt, and at the same time 
how grateful for having two such anxious guar- 
dians ! While expressing this deep interest they 
each kept an eye on my full haversack. "Well," 
said I, "I have some pabulum here ; let's go to the 
mess and give them a snack." They said, "That 
little bit wouldn't be a drop in the bucket with all 
that mess ; let's just go down yonder to the branch 
and have one real good old-fashioned repast." So 
off we went to the branch, and by the time they were 
through congratulating me on getting back before 
the battery had "gotten into it," my haversack was 
empty. The battle had been fought by Johnson's 
division, the enemy whipped and put to flight. The 
next day we started in pursuit, passing through 
McDowell, a village in Highland County, and near 
this village the fight had occurred. The ground was 
too rough and broken for the effective use of artil- 
lery, so the work was done by the infantry on both 
sides. This was the first opportunity that many of 
us had had of seeing a battlefield the day after the 
battle. The ghastly faces of the dead made a sick- 
ening and lasting impression ; but I hoped I did not 
look as pale as did some of the young cadets, who 
proved gallant enough afterward. We continued 



50 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

the pursuit a day or two through that wild mount- 
tainous country, but Milroy stopped only once after 
his defeat, for a skirmish. In a meadow and near 
the roadside stood a deserted cabin, which had been 
struck several times during the skirmish by shells. 
I went inside of it, to see what a shell could do. 
Three had penetrated the outer wall and burst in 
the house, and I counted twenty-seven holes made 
through the frame partition by the fragments. Be- 
ing an artilleryman, and therefore to be exposed to 
missiles of that kind, I concluded that my chances 
for surviving the war were extremely slim. 

While on this expedition an amusing incident 
occurred in our mess. There belonged to it quite 
a character. He was not considered a pretty boy, 
and tried to* get even with the world by taking good 
care of himself. We had halted one morning to 
cook several days' rations, and a large pile of bread 
was placed near the fire, of which we were to eat 
our breakfast and the rest was to be divided among 
us. He came, we thought, too often to the pile, and 
helped himself bountifully; he would return to his 
seat on his blanket, and one or two of us saw, or 
thought we saw him conceal pieces of bread under 
it. Nothing was said at the time, but after he had 
gone away Boiling, Packard and I concluded to 
examine his haversack, which looked very fat. In 
it we found about half a gallon of rye for coffee, a 
hock of bacon, a number of home-made buttered 
biscuit, a hen-egg and a goose-egg, besides more 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 51 

than his share of camp rations. Here was our 
chance to teach a Christian man in an agreeable way 
that he should not appropriate more than his share 
of the rations without the consent of the mess, so 
we set to and ate heartily of his good stores, and in 
their place put, for ballast, a river-jack that weighed 
about two pounds. He carried the stone for two 
days before he ate down to it, and, when he did, was 
mad enough to eat it. We then told him what we 
had done and why; but thought he had hidden 
enough under his blanket to carry him through the 
campaign. 

Before leaving the Valley we had observed de- 
cided evidences of spring; but here it was hke mid- 
winter — not a bud nor blade of grass to be seen. 
Milroy was now out of reach, so we retraced our 
steps. On getting out of the mountains we bore to 
the left of Staunton in the direction of Harrison- 
burg, twenty-five miles northeast of the former. 
After the bleak mountains, with their leafless trees, 
the old Valley looked like Paradise. The cherry- 
and peach-trees were loaded with bloom, the fields 
covered with rank clover, and how our weary 
horses did revel in it! We camped the first night 
in a beautiful meadow, and soon after settling down 
I borrowed Sergeant Gregory's one-eyed horse to 
go foraging on. I was very successful; I got sup- 
per at a comfortable Dutch house, and at it and one 
or two others I bought myself and the mess rich. 
As I was returning to camp after night with a ham 



52 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

of bacon between me and the pommel of the saddle, 
a bucket of butter on one arm, a kerchief of pies on 
the other, and chickens swung across behind, my one- 
eyed horse stumbled and fell forward about ten feet 
with his nose to the ground. I let him take care of 
himself while I took care of my provisions. When 
he recovered his feet and started, I do not think a 
single one of my possessions had slipped an inch. 



CHAPTER V 

BRIDGEWATER LURAY VALLEY FRONT ROYAL 

FOLLOWING GENERAL BANKS NIGHT MARCH 

BATTLE OF WINCHESTER BANK'S RETREAT 

The next day we who were on foot crossed the 
Shenandoah on a bridge made of wagons standing 
side by side, with tongues up-stream, and boards 
extending from one wagon to another. We reached 
Bridgewater about four p. m. It was a place of 
which I had never heard, and a beautiful village it 
proved to be, buried in trees and flowers. From 
Bridgewater we went to Harrisonburg, and then on 
our old familiar and beaten path — the Valley pike 
to New Market. Thence obliquely to the right, 
crossing the Massanutten Mountain into Luray 
Valley. During the Milroy campaign Ewell had 
crossed into the Valley, and we now followed his 
division, which was several miles in advance. Banks 
was in command of the Union force in the Valley, 
with his base at Winchester and detachments of his 
army at Strasburg, eighteen miles southwest, and 
at Front Royal, about the same distance in the Lu- 
ray Valley. So the latter place was to be attacked 
first. About three p. m. the following day cannon- 
ading was heard on ahead, and, after a sharp fight, 

53 



54 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Ewell carried the day. We arrived about sundown, 
after it was all over. In this battle the First Mary- 
land Regiment (Confederate) had met the First 
Maryland (Federal) and captured the whole regi- 
ment. Several members of our battery had bro- 
thers or other relatives in the Maryland (Confed- 
erate) regiment, wdiom they now met for the first 
time since going into service. Next day we moved 
toward Middletown on the Valley pike, and mid- 
way between Winchester and Strasburg. 

Jackson's rapid movements seemed to have taken 
the enemy entirely by surprise, and we struck their 
divided forces piecemeal, and even after the Front 
Royal affair their troops at Strasburg, consisting 
chiefly of cavalry, had not moved. Two of our guns 
were sent on with the Louisiana Tigers, to intercept 
them at Middletown. The guns were posted about 
one hundred and fifty yards from the road, and the 
Tigers strung along behind a stone fence on the 
roadside. Everything was in readiness when the 
enemy came in sight. They wavered for a time, 
some trying to pass around, but, being pushed from 
behind, there was no alternative. Most of them tried 
to run the gauntlet ; few, however, got through. As 
the rest of us came up we met a number of prisoners 
on horseback. They had been riding at a run for 
nine miles on the i)ike in a cloud of white dust. 
Many of them were hatless. some had sabre-cuts on 
their heads and streams of blood were coursing down 
through the dust on their faces. Among them was 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 55 

a woman wearing a short red skirt and mounted on 
a tall horse. 

Confined in a churchyard in the village were two 
or three hundred prisoners. As we were passing 
by them an old negro cook, belonging to the Alle- 
ghany Rough Battery of our brigade, ran over to 
the fence and gave them a hearty greeting, said he 
was delighted to see them "thar," and that we would 
catch all the rest of them before they got back home. 
Bank's main force was at Winchester, and thither 
we directed our course. 

Newtown was the next village, and there we had 
another skirmish, our artillery being at one end of 
the town and the enemy's at the opposite. In this 
encounter two members of our battery, Calvin 
Dold and George Ginger, were wounded. There 
was great rejoicing among the people to see us back 
again and to be once more free from Northern sol- 
diers. As the troops were passing through New- 
town a very portly old lady came running out on her 
porch, and, spreading her arms wide, called out, 
"All of you run here and kiss me!" 

Our captures were not confined to men and horses, 
but army stores of all kinds. From a butler's wagon 
we passed, William Boiling secured a whole barrel 
of ginger cakes, which he placed in our ambulance 
at the rear of the battery. Word was passed along 
the line and soon a large funeral procession was in 
its wake devouring ginger cakes. 

Night soon set in, and a long, weary night it was ; 



56 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

the most trying I ever passed, in war or out of it. 
From dark till daylight we did not advance more 
than four miles. Step by step we moved along, halt- 
ing for five minutes ; then on a few steps and halt 
again. About ten o'clock we passed by a house 
rather below the roadside, on the porch of which 
lay several dead Yankees, a light shining on their 
ghastly faces. Occasionally we were startled by the 
sharp report of a rifle, followed in quick succession 
by others ; then all as quiet as the grave. Sometimes, 
when a longer halt was made, we would endeavor to 
steal a few moments' sleep, for want of which it was 
hard to stand up. By the time a blanket was un- 
rolled, the column was astir again, and so it con- 
tinued throughout the long, dreary hours of the 
night. 

At last morning broke, clear and beautiful, find- 
ing us about two miles from Winchester. After 
moving on for perhaps half a mile, we filed to the 
left. All indications were that a battle was immi- 
nent, Banks evidently intending to make one more 
effort. The sun was up, and never shone on a pret- 
tier country nor a lovelier May morning. Along our 
route was a brigade of Louisiana troops under the 
command of Gen. Dick Taylor, of Ewell's division. 
They were in line of battle in a ravine, and as we 
were passing by them several shells came screaming 
close over our heads and burst just beyond. I heard 
a colonel chicling his men for dodging, one of whom 
called out, in reply, "Colonel, lead us up to where 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 57 

we can get at them and then we won't dodge !" We 
passed on, bearing to the left and in the direction 
from which the shells came. General Jackson or- 
dered us to take position on the hill just in front. The 
ground was covered with clover, and as we reached 
the crest we were met by a volley of musketry from 
a line of infantry behind a stone fence about two 
hundred yards distant. 

My gun was one of the last to get into position, 
coming up on the left. I was assigned the position 
of No. 2, Jim Ford No. I. The Minie-balls were 
now flying fast by our heads, through the clover and 
everywhere. A charge of powder was handed me, 
which I put into the muzzle of the gun. In a rifled 
gun this should have been rammed home first, but 
No. 1 said, "Put in your shell and let one ram do. 
Hear those Minies?" I heard them and adopted 
the suggestion; the consequence was, the charge 
stopped half-way down and there it stuck, and the 
gun was thereby rendered unavailable. This was 
not very disagreeable, even from a patriotic point of 
view, as we could do but little good shooting at in- 
fantry behind a stone fence. On going about fifty 
yards to the rear, I came up with my friend and 
messmate, Gregory, who was being carried by sev- 
eral comrades. A Minie-ball had gone through his 
left arm into his breast and almost through his body, 
lodging in the right side of his back. Still he recov- 
ered, and was a captain of ordnance at the surren- 
der, and two years ago I visited him at his own 



58 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

home in California. As my train stopped at his 
depot, and I saw a portly old gentleman with a long 
white beard coming to meet it, I thought of the 
youth I remembered, and said, "Can that be Greg- 
ory?" 

Then came Frank Preston with his arm shattered, 
which had to be amputated at the shoulder. I 
helped to carry Gregory to a barn one hundred and 
fifty yards in the rear, and there lay Bob McKim, 
of Baltimore, another member of the company, shot 
through the head and dying. Also my messmate, 
Wash. Stuart, who had recently joined the battery. 
A ball had struck him just below the cheek-bone, 
and, passing through the mouth, came out on the 
opposite side of his face, breaking out most of his 
jaw-teeth. Then came my brother Jolm witli a 
stream of blood running from the top of his head, 
and, dividing at the forehead, trickled in all direc- 
tions down his face. My brother David was also 
slightly wounded on the arm by a piece of shell. 
By this time the Louisianians had been "led up to 
where they could get at them," and gotten them on 
the run. As one of our guns was being put into 
position a gate-post interfered and was jammed be- 
tween a wheel and the tongue. In response to Capt. 
Poague's request for volunteers to cut it down. Can- 
noneer Whitt promptly undertook and completed 
the task, under a constant hail of bullets from the 
sharp-shooters behind the stone-wall. 

In this battle, known as First Winchester, two of 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 59 

the battery were killed and twelve or fourteen 
wounded. The fighting was soon over and became 
a chase. My gun being hors de combat, I remained 
awhile with the wounded, so did not witness the first 
wild enthusiasm of the Winchester people as our 
men drove the enemy through the streets, but heard 
that the ladies could not be kept indoors. Our bat- 
tery did itself credit on this occasion. I will quote 
from Gen. Dick Taylor's book, entitled "Destruc- 
tion and Reconstruction": "Jackson was on the 
pike and near him were several regiments lying 
down for shelter, as the fire from the ridge was 
heavy and searching. A Virginian battery, the 
Rockbridge Artillery, was fighting at great disad- 
vantage, and already much cut up. Poetic author- 
ity asserts that 'Old Virginny never tires,' and the 
conduct of this battery justified the assertion of the 
muses. With scarce a leg or wheel for man and 
horse, gun or caisson, to stand on, it continued to 
hammer away at the crushing fire above." And 
further on in the same narrative he says, "Mean- 
while, the Rockbridge Battery held on manfully 
and engaged the enemy's attention." Dr. Dabney's 
"Life of Stonewall Jackson," page 377, says: 
"Just at this moment General Jackson rode for- 
ward, followed by two field-officers, to the very 
crest of the hill, and, amidst a perfect shower of 
balls reconnoitred the whole position. 
He saw them posting another battery, with which 
they hoped to enfilade the ground occupied by the 



60 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

guns of Poague; and nearer to his left front a body 
of riflemen were just seizing a position behind a 
stone fence when they poured a galhng fire upon 
the gunners and struck down many men and horses. 
Here this gallant battery stood its ground, some- 
times almost silenced, yet never yielding an inch. 
After a time they changed their front to the left, 
and while a part of their guns replied to the oppos- 
ing battery the remainder shattered the stone fence, 
which sheltered the Federal infantry, with solid 
shot and raked it with canister." 

In one of the hospitals I saw Jim ("Red") Jor- 
dan, an old schoolmate and member of the Alle- 
ghany Roughs, with his arm and shoulder horribly 
mangled by a shell. He had beautiful brown eyes, 
and, as I came into the room where he lay tossing 
on his bed, he opened them for a moment and called 
my name, but again fell back delirious, and soon 
afterward died. 

The chase was now over, and the town full of 
soldiers and officers, especially the latter. I was 
invited by John Williams, better known as 
"Johnny," to spend the night at his home, a home 
renowned even in hospitable Winchester for its 
hospitality. He had many more intimate friends 
than I, and the house was full. Still I thought I 
received more attention and kindness than even the 
officers. I was given a choice room all to myself, 
and never shall I forget the impression made by the 
sight of that clean, snow-white bed, the first I had 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 61 

seen since taking up arms for my country, which 
already seemed to me a Hfetime. I thought I must 
He awake a while, in order to take in the situation, 
then go gradually to sleep, realizing that to no rude 
alarm was I to hearken, and once or twice during 
the night to wake up and realize it again. But, 
alas! my plans were all to no purpose; for, after 
the continual marching and the vigils of the pre- 
vious night, I was asleep the moment my head 
touched the pillow, nor moved a muscle till break- 
fast was announced next morning. 



CHAPTER VI 

CAPTURING FEDERAL CAVALRY CHARLESTOWN 

EXTRAORDINARY MARCH 

After camping for a day or two about three 
miles below Winchester we marched again toward 
Harper's Ferry, thirty miles below. Four of the 
six guns of the battery were sent in advance with 
the infantry of the brigade ; the other two guns, to 
one of which I belonged, coming on leisurely in the 
rear. As we approached Charlestown, seated on the 
limbers and caissons, we saw three or four of our 
cavalrymen coming at full speed along a road on 
our left, which joined the road we were on, mak- 
ing an acute angle at the end of the main street. 
They announced "Yankee cavalry" as they passed 
and disappeared into the town. In a moment the 
Federals were within one hundred yards of us. We 
had no officer, except Sergeant Jordan, but we 
needed none. Instantly every man was on his feet, 
the guns unlimbered, and, by the time the muzzles 
were in the right direction, No. 5 handed me a 
charge of canister. No. 1 standing ready to ram. 
Before I put the charge into the gun the enemy had 
come to a halt within eighty yards of us, and their 
commanding officer drew and waved a white hand- 
kerchief. W^e, afraid to leave our guns lest they 

62 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 63 

should escape or turn the tables on us, after some 
time prevailed on our straggling cavalry, who had 
halted around the turn, to ride forward and take 
them. There were seventeen Federals, well-mounted 
and equipped. Our cavalry claimed all the spoils, 
and I heard afterward most of the credit, too. We 
got four of the horses, one of which, under various 
sergeants and corporals, and by the name of ''Fiz- 
zle,' became quite a celebrity. 

Delighted with our success and gallantry, we 
again mounted our caissons and entered the town at 
a trot. The people had been under Northern rule 
for a long time, and were rejoiced to greet their 
friends. I heard a very old lady say to a little girl, 
as we drove by, "Oh, dear! if your father was just 
here, to see this !" The young ladies were stand- 
ing on the sides of the streets, and, as our guns 
rattled by, would reach out to hand us some of the 
dainties from their baskets ; but we had had plenty, 
so they could not reach far enough. The excitement 
over, we went into camp in a pretty piece of woods 
two miles below the town and six from Harper's 
Ferry. Here we spent several days pleasantly. 

Mayor Middleton, of our town, Lexington, had 
followed us with a wagonload of boxes of edibles 
from home. So many of the company had been 
wounded or left behind that the rest of us had a 
double share. Gregory's box, which Middleton 
brought from the railroad, contained a jar of deli- 
cious pickle. I had never relished it before, but 



64 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

camp-life had created a craving for it that seemed 
insatiable. The cows of the neighborhood seemed 
to have a curiosity to see us, and would stroll 
around the camp and stand kindly till a canteen 
could be filled with rich milk, which could soon be 
cooled in a convenient spring. Just outside of 
Charlestown lived the Ransons, who had formerly 
lived near Lexington and were great friends of my 
father's family. I called to see them. "Buck," the 
second son, was then about fifteen and chafing to 
go into the army. I took a clean shave with his 
razor, which he used daily to encourage his beard 
and shorten his stay in Jericho. He treated me to 
a flowing goblet of champagne left by the Federal 
officers in their haste, and gave me a lead-colored 
knit jacket, with a blue border, in which I felt quite 
fine, and wore through the rest of the campaign. 
It was known in the mess as my "Josey." "Buck" 
eventually succeeded in getting in, and now bears 
the scars of three saber-cuts on his head. 

It was raining the day we broke camp and started 
toward Winchester, but our march was enlivened 
by the addition of a new recruit in the person of 
Steve Dandridge. He was about sixteen and had 
just come from the Virginia Military Institute, 
where he had been sent to be kept out of the army. 
He wore a cadet-cap which came well over the eyes 
and nose, and left a mass of brown, curly hair un- 
protected on the back of his head. His joy at being 
"mustered in" was irrepressible. He had no ear 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 65 

for music, was really "too good-natured to strike 
a tune," but the songs he tried to sing would have 
made a "dog laugh." Within an hour after his 
arrival he was on intimate terms with everybody 
and knew and called us all by our first names. 

The march of this day was one of the noted ones 
of the war. Our battery traveled about thirty-five 
miles, and the infantry of the brigade, being camped 
within a mile of Harper's Ferry, made more than 
forty miles through rain and mud. The cause of 
this haste was soon revealed. General Fremont, 
with a large army, was moving rapidly from the 
north to cut us off, and was already nearer our base 
than we were, while General Shields, with another 
large force, was pushing from the southeast, having 
also the advantage of us in distance, and trying to 
unite with Fremont, and General McDowell with 
20,000 men was at Fredericksburg. The roads on 
which the three armies were marching concentrated 
at Strasburg, and Jackson was the first to get there. 
Two of our guns were put in position on a fortified 
hill near the town, from which I could see the pick- 
ets of both the opposing armies on their respective 
roads and numbers of our stragglers still following 
on behind us, between the two. Many of our offi- 
cers had collected around our guns with their field- 
glasses, and, at the suggestion of one of them, we 
fired a few rounds at the enemy's videttes "to hurry 
up our stragglers." 

The next day, when near the village of Edin- 



66 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

burg, a squadron of our cavalry, under command 
of General Munford, was badly stampeded by a 
charge of Federal cavalry. Suddenly some of these 
men and horses without riders came dashing through 
our battery, apparently blind to objects in their 
front. One of our company was knocked down by 
the knees of a flying horse, and, as the horse was 
making his next leap toward him, his bridle was 
seized by a driver and the horse almost doubled up 
and brought to a standstill. This was the only time 
I ever heard a field-officer upbraided by privates; 
but one of the officers got ample abuse from us on 
that occasion. 

I had now again, since Winchester, been assigned 
to a Parrott gun, and it, with another, was ordered 
into position on the left of the road. The Federals 
soon opened on us with two guns occupying an un- 
favorable position considerably below us. The 
gunner of my piece was J. P. Smith, who afterward 
became an aide on General Jackson's staff, and was 
with him when he received his death-wound at 
Chancellorsville. One of the guns firing at us could 
not, for some time, be accurately located, owing to 
some small trees, etc., which intervened, so the other 
gun received most of our attention. Finally, I 
marked the hidden one exactly, beyond a small tree, 
from the puff of smoke wlien it fired. I then asked 
J. P., as we called him, to let me try a shot at it, to 
which he kindly assented. I got a first-rate aim and 
ordered "Fire!" The enemy's gun did not fire 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 67 

again, though its companion continued for some 
time. I have often wished to know what damage 
I did them. 

The confusion of the stampede being over, the 
hne of march was quietly resumed for several miles, 
until we reached "The Narrows," where we again 
went into position. I had taken a seat by the road- 
side and was chatting with a companion while the 
guns drove out into a field to prepare for action, 
and, as I could see the ground toward the enemy, I 
knew that I had ample time to get to my post before 
being needed. When getting out the accouterments 
the priming-wire could not be found. I being No. 3 
was, of course, responsible for it. I heard Captain 
Poague, on being informed who No. 3 was, shout, 
"Ned Moore, where is that priming-wire?" I re- 
plied, "It is in the limber-chest where it belongs." 
There were a good many people around, and I did 
not wish it to appear that I had misplaced my little 
priming-wire in the excitement of covering Stone- 
wall's retreat. The captain yelled, as I thought un- 
necessarily, "It isn't there!" I, in the same tone, 
rephed, "It is there, and I will get it!" So off I 
hurried, and, to my delight, there it was in its 
proper place, and I brought it forth with no small 
flourish and triumph. 

After waiting here for a reasonable time, and no 
foe appearing, we followed on in rear of the column 
without further molestation or incident that I can 
now recall. We reached Harrisonburg after a few 
days' marching. 



CHAPTER VII 

GENERAL JACKSON NARROWLY ESCAPES BEING CAP- 
TURED AT PORT REPUBLIC CONTEST BETWEEN 

CONFEDERATES AND FEDERALS FOR BRIDGE OVER 
SHENANDOAH 

The College company had as cook a very black 
negro boy named Pete, who through all this march- 
ing had carried, on a baggage- wagon, a small game 
rooster which he named "Ashby" and which he told 
me had whipped every chicken from Harrisonburg 
to Winchester and back again. At last poor Ashby 
met defeat, and Pete consigned him to the pot. say- 
ing, "No chicken dat kin be whipped shall go 'long 
wid Jackson's headquarters." At Harrisonburg we 
turned to the left again, but this time obliquely, in 
the direction of Port Republic, twenty miles distant. 
We went into camp on Saturday evening. June 7, 
about one mile from Port Republic and on the north 
side of the Shenandoah. Shields had kept his army 
on the south side of this stream and had been mov- 
ing parallel with us during our retreat. Jackson's 
division was in advance. Instead of going into 
camp. I, with two messmates. Boiling and Walter 
Packard, diverged to a log-house for supper. The 
man of the house was quiet; his wife did the talk- 

08 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 69 

ing, and a great deal of it. She flatly refused us a 
bite to eat, but, on stating the case to her, she con- 
sented to let us have some bread and milk. Seated 
around an unset dining-table we began divesting 
ourselves of our knapsacks. She said, "Just keep 
your baggage on; you can eat a bite and go." We 
told her we could eat faster unharnessed. She 
sliced a loaf of bread as sad as beeswax, one she 
had had on hand for perhaps a week, and gave us 
each a bowl of sour milk, all the while reminding 
us to make our stay short. For the sake of "argu- 
ment" we proposed to call around for breakfast. 
She scorned the idea, had "promised breakfast to 
fifty already." "Staying all night? Not any." We 
said we could sleep in the yard and take our chances 
for breakfast. After yielding, inch by inch, she said 
we could sleep on the porch. "Well, I reckon you 
just as well come into the house," and showed us 
into a snug room containing two nice, clean beds, 
in one of which lay a little "nigger" about five years 
old, with her nappy head on a snow-white pillow. 
We took the floor and slept all night, and were 
roused next morning to partake of a first-rate break- 
fast. 

About eight or nine o'clock this Sunday morn- 
ing we were taking our ease in and about camp, 
some having gone to the river to bathe, and the 
horses turned loose in the fields to graze. I was 
stretched at full length on the ground, when 
"bang!" went a Yankee cannon about a mile in our 



70 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

rear, toward Port Republic. We were up and astir 
instantly, fully realizing the situation. By lending 
my assistance to the drivers in catching and hitch- 
ing" uj) the horses, my gun was the first ready, and 
started immediately in the direction of the firing, 
with Captain Poague in the lead, the other guns 
following on as they got ready. 

Three or four hundred yards brought us in full 
view of Port Republic, situated just across the 
river. Beyond, and to the left of the village, was a 
small body of woods; below this, and lying between 
the river and mountain, an open plain. We fired on 
several regiments of infantry in the road parallel 
to and across the river, who soon began moving off 
to the left. The other guns of the battery, arriving 
on the scene one at a time, took position on our left 
and opened vigorously on the retreating infantry. 
My gun then moved forward and unlimbered close 
to a bridge about two hundred yards below the 
town, where we took position on a bluff in tlie bend 
of the river. We commenced firing at the enemy's 
cavalry as they emerged from the woods and crossed 
the open plain. One of our solid shots struck a horse 
and rider going at full gallop. The horse reared 
straight up, then down both fell in a common heap 
to rise no more. 

While in this position General Jackson, who had 
narrowly escaped being captured in his quarters in 
the town, came riding up to us. Soon after his ar- 
rival we saw^ a single piece of artillery pass by the 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 71 

lower end of the village, and, turning to the right, 
drive quietly along the road toward the bridge. The 
men were dressed in blue, most of them having on 
blue overcoats ; still we were confident they were 
our own men, as three-fourths of us wore captured 
overcoats. General Jackson ordered, "Fire on that 
gun!" We said, "General, those are our men." The 
General repeated, "Fire on that gun !" Captain 
Poague said, "General, I know those are our men." 
(Poague has since told me that he had, that morn- 
ing, crossed the river and seen one of our batteries 
in camp near this place.) Then the General called, 
"Bring that gun over here," and repeated the order 
several times. We had seen, a short distance be- 
hind us, a regiment of our infantry, the Thirty- 
seventh Virginia. It was now marching in column 
very slowly toward us. In response to Jackson's 
order to "bring that gun over here," the Federals, 
for Federals they were, unlimbered their gun and 
pointed it through the bridge. We tried to fire, but 
could not depress our gun sufficiently for a good 
aim. 

The front of the infantry regiment had now 
reached a point within twenty steps of us on our 
right, when the Federals turned their gun toward 
us and fired, killing the five men of the regiment at 
the front. The Federals then mounted their horses 
and limber, leaving their gun behind, and started 
off. The infantry, shocked by their warm recep- 
tion, had not yet recovered. We called on them, 



72 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

over and over, to kill a horse as the enemy drove off. 
They soon began shooting, and, I thought, fired 
shots enough to kill a dozen horses ; but on the Fed- 
erals went, right in front of us, and not more than 
one hundred yards distant, accompanied by two offi- 
cers on horseback. When near the town the horse 
of one officer received a shot and fell dead. The 
Thirty-seventh Virginia followed on in column 
through the bridge, its front having passed the de- 
serted gun while its rear was passing us. The men 
in the rear, mistaking the front of their own regi- 
ment for the enemy, opened fire on them, heedless 
of the shouts of their officers and of the artillery- 
men as to what they were doing. I saw a little fel- 
low stoop, and, resting his rifle on his knee, take a 
long aim and fire. Fortunately, they shot no better 
at their own men than they did at the enemy, as 
not a man was touched. Up to this time we had 
been absorbed in events immediately at hand, but, 
quiet being now restored, we heard cannonading 
back toward Harrisonburg. Fremont had attacked 
Ewell at Cross Keys about four miles from us. Soon 
the musketry was heard and the battle waxed warm. 
Remaining in this position the greater portion of 
the day, we listened anxiously to learn from the in- 
creasing or lessening sound how the battle was go- 
ing with Ewell, and turned our eyes constantly in 
the opposite direction, expecting a renewal of the 
attack from Shields. Toward the middle of the 
afternoon the sound became more and more remote 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 73 

— Ewell had evidently been victorious, which fact 
was later confirmed by couriers. We learned, too, 
of the death of General Ashby, which had occurred 
the preceding day, and that his body had been borne 
through our camp just before the alarm of that 
morning. In an encounter with the First New Jer- 
sey Cavalry, which was led by Colonel Percy Wind- 
ham, an Englishman who was captured in the 
melee, Ashby's horse was killed under him ; he rose, 
and while leading the Fifty-eighth Virginia on foot, 
he fell pierced by a bullet and died almost instantly. 



CHAPTER VIII 

BATTLE OF PORT REPUBLIC 

About sundown we crossed on the bridge, and 
our wagons joining us we went into bivouac. In 
times of this kind, when every one is tired, each has 
to depend on himself to prepare his meal. While I 
was considering how best and soonest I could get 
my supper cooked. Bob Lee happened to stop at our 
fire, and said he would show me a first-rate plan. It 
was to mix flour and water together into a thin bat- 
ter, then fry the grease out of bacon, take the meat 
out of the frying pan and pour the batter in, and 
then "just let her rip awhile over the fire." I found 
the receipt a good one and expeditious. 

About two miles below us, near the river, we 
could plainly see the enemy's camp-fires. Early 
next morning we were astir, and crossed the other 
fork of the river on an improvised bridge made of 
boards laid on the running-gear of wagons. 

We felt assured that Fremont and Shields had 
received ample satisfaction, and that we were done 
with them for the present at least. Still more were 
we of this opinion when the w^agon-train took the 
Brown's Gap road leading across the Blue Ridge, 
we expecting, of course, to follow. We did not fol- 
low, however, but took instead the route Shields's 

74 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 75 

forces had taken the day previous, along which lay 
the bodies of the men we had killed, their heads, 
with few exceptions, being shot entirely off. 

Having gone about a mile, the enemy opened on 
us with artillery, their shells tearing by us with a 
most venomous whistle. Halted on the sides of the 
road, as we moved by, were the infantry of our 
brigade. Among them I recognized my old school- 
teacher, Alfonso Smith, who had just joined the 
army. I had many times quailed under his fierce 
eye and writhed under his birch rod. The strain to 
which he was subjected under these circumstances 
was doubly trying, waiting inactive for his first bap- 
tism of fire. His eye was restless as we passed ; 
perhaps he had a presentiment, as he received his 
death-wound before the day was over. 

Again our two Parrott guns were ordered for- 
ward. Turning out of the road to the left, we un- 
limbered and commenced firing. The ground on 
which we stood was level and very soft, and, having 
no hand-spike, we had to move the trail of the gun 
by main force. The enemy very soon got our range, 
and more accurate shooting I was never subjected 
to. The other four guns of the battery now came 
up, and, passing along a small ravine about forty 
yards behind us, halted for a time nearby. We were 
hotly engaged, shells bursting close around and 
pelting us with soft dirt as they struck the ground. 
Bob Lee came creeping up from his gun in the 
ravine, and called to me, "Ned, that isn't making 



76 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

batter-cakes, is it?" The constant recoiling of our 
gun cut great furrows in the earth, which made it 
necessary to move several times to more solid 
ground. In these different positions which we oc- 
cupied three of the enemy's shells passed between 
the wheels and under the axle of our gun, bursting 
at the trail. One of them undermined the gunner's 
(Henry's) footing and injured him so as to neces- 
sitate his leaving the field. Even the old Irish hero, 
Tom Martin, was demoralized, and, in dodging 
from a Yankee shell, was struck by the wheel of our 
gun in its recoil and rendered hors de combat. We 
had been kept in this position for two or three 
hours, while a flank movement was being made by 
Taylor's Louisiana Brigade and the Second Vir- 
ginia Regiment through the brush at the foot of the 
mountain on our right. When it was thought that 
sufficient time had been allowed for them to make 
the detour, our whole line moved forward, the rest 
of the battery several hundred yards to our left. 
When my gun moved up an eighth of a mile nearer 
to the enemy, they added two guns to the three 
occupying the site of an old coal-hearth at the foot 
of the rugged mountain, so that our gun had five 
to contend with for an hour longer. 

Graham Montgomery had become gunner in 
Henry's place, and proved a good one. He could 
not be hurried, and every time the smoke puffed 
from our gun their cannoneers slid right and left 
from the coal-hearth, then returning to their guns 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 77 

loaded and gave us a volley. As usual in such 
cases, our flanking party was longer in making their 
appearance than expected. The whole Federal line 
charged, and as they did so their ranks rapidly 
thinned, some hesitating to advance, while others 
were shot down in full view. Still they drove us 
back and captured one gun of our battery. Single- 
ton, of my mess, was captured, and Lieut. Cole 
Davis, supposed to be mortally wounded, was left 
on the field. On getting back a short distance I 
found myself utterly exhausted, my woolen clothes 
wet with perspiration. Having been too tired to 
get out of the way when the gun fired, my ear- 
drums kept up the vibrations for hours. Sleep soon- 
overcame me, but still the battle reverberated in my 
head. 

The Louisianians and the Second Virginia had 
gotten through the brush and driven the enemy from 
the field. I was roused, to join in the pursuit, and 
had the satisfaction of seeing the five cannon that 
had played on our gun standing silent on the coal- 
hearth, in our hands. There being no room in their 
rear, their caissons and limbers stood off to their 
right on a flat piece of heavily wooded ground. This 
was almost covered with dead horses. I think there 
must have been eighty or ninety on less than an 
acre ; one 1 noticed standing almost upright, per- 
fectly lifeless, supported by a fallen tree. Farther 
on we overtook one of our battery horses which we 
had captured from Banks two weeks before. 



78 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Shields's men then captured him from us, and we 
again from them. He had been wounded four times, 
but was still fit for service. 

The other four guns of our battery were posted 
in a wheat-field where the faces of the men were 
constantly sprinkled with the milk from the half- 
ripe wheat, splashed by the Minies. 

Such a spectacle as we here witnessed and exult- 
ingly enjoyed possibly has no parallel. After a 
rapid retreat of more than one hundred miles, to 
escape from the clutches of three armies hotly pur- 
suing on flank and rear, one of which had outstrip- 
ped us, we paused to contemplate the situation. On 
the ground where we stood lay the dead and 
wounded of Shields's army, with much of their artil- 
lery and many prisoners in our possession, while, 
crowning the hills in full view and with no means 
of crossing an intervening river, even should they 
venture to do so, stood another army — Fremont's — 
with flags flying. 

The narrow road with river on one side and 
mountain on the other caused the closely-pressed 
Federals in many instances to "take to the brush." 
George Ailstock, of Rockbridge County, celebrated 
for his courage and physical strength, member of 
Company G, Fifty-eighth Virginia Regiment, with 
two or three others of his company, was in hot pur- 
suit, following the trail of a band through broken 
brush and weeds, and being fleeter than his com- 
panions he outran them, and while alone overtook a 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 79 

party of Federals, a lieutenant and twenty -eight 
privates. He called on them to surrender, which 
they did, and when his friends came up he had 
formed his prisoners in line and was marching them 
out. When asked by the major of his regiment how 
he had managed to capture so many, George replied, 
"I just surrounded 'em. Major." 



CHAPTER IX 

FROM BROWN^S GAP TO STAUNTON FROM STAUN- 
TON TO RICHMOND COLD HARBOR GENERAL 

LEE VISITS HIS SON IN THE BATTERY 

I HAD exchanged my brother John as a bed-fel- 
low for Walter Packard. Walter was a droll fel- 
low, rather given to arguing, and had a way of 
enraging his adversary while he kept cool, and 
when it suited, could put on great dignity. Imme- 
diately following our battery, as we worked our 
way along a by-road through the foothills toward 
Brown's Gap, was Gen. Dick Taylor at the head of 
his Louisiana Brigade. Walter had mounted and 
was riding on a caisson, contrary to orders recently 
issued by Jackson. Taylor ordered him to get down. 
Walter turned around, and, looking coolly at him, 
said, with his usual sang-froid, "Who are you, and 
what the devil have you to do with my riding on a 
caisson?" Taylor seemed astounded for a moment, 
and then opened on poor Walter with a volley of 
oaths that our champion swearer, Irish Emmett, 
would have envied. 

Taylor then told who he was and Walter replied, 
"Excuse me. General, I have my Captain's permis- 
sion to ride." 

80 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 81 

When we had gotten about half-way to the top 
of the mountain, I, with three others, was detailed 
to go back and bring Lieut. Cole Davis from the 
field. We were too tired for any thought but of 
ourselves, and retraced our steps, growling as we 
went. We had heard that Davis was mortally 
wounded, and was probably dead then. Suddenly, 
one hundred yards in front of us, we saw a man rid- 
ing slowly toward us, sitting erect, with his plume 
flying. We said, ''That's Davis or his ghost!" It 
was he, held on his horse by a man on each side. 
We walked on with him till dusk, but, finding he 
had assistants to spare, two of us overtook the bat- 
tery. Davis was shot through the body, and suffer- 
ing dreadfully, able to move only in an upright 
posture. He entirely recovered, however, and did 
gallant service until the close of the war. 

Still photographed on my memory is the appear- 
ance of the body of one of the Second Virginia 
Regiment being hauled on our rear caisson. His 
head had been shot ofif, and over the headless trunk 
was fastened a white handkerchief, which served 
as a sort of guide in the darkness. Weary of plod- 
ding thus, Graham Montgomery and I left the road, 
a short distance from which we concluded to spend 
the night and be subject to no more orders. A 
drizzling rain was falling. Each having a gum- 
cloth, we spread one on the loose stones and the 
other over us, with our feet against a big tree, to 
keep from sliding down the mountain-side. We 



82 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

were soon asleep, and when we awoke next morn- 
ing we had slid into a heap close against the tree. 
To give an idea of the ready access we had to the 
enemy's stores, I had been the possessor of nine 
gum-blankets within the past three weeks, and no 
such article as a gum -blanket was ever manufac- 
tured in the South. Any soldier carrying a Confed- 
erate canteen was at once recognized as a new re- 
cruit, as it required but a short time to secure one of 
superior quality from a dead foeman on a battlefield. 

Following the road up the mountain, we came 
across one of our guns which, by bad driving, 
had fallen over an embankment some forty feet. 
Two horses still hitched to it lay on their backs, 
one of which I recognized as Gregory's one-eyed 
dun which I had ridden foraging at Bridgewater. 
After my arrival on top of the mountain I was sent 
with a detail which recovered the gun and the two 
horses, both alive. Dandridge and Adams were driv- 
ing the team when the gun went over. They saved 
themselves by jumping, and came near having a 
fight right there as to who was at fault, and for a 
long time afterward it was only necessary to refer 
to the matter to have a repetition of the quarrel. 

After a day or two we countermarched to- 
ward Port Republic and went into camp a mile 
from Weir's cave, where we spent several days. 
Thence toward Staunton and camped near the 
town. Here we were told that we were to have 
a month's rest in consideration of our long- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 83 

continued marching and fighting. Rest, indeed ! 
We lost the three days we might have had for 
rest while there, preparing our camp for a month 
of ease. During our stay here my father paid us 
a visit, having ridden from Lexington to see his 
three sons. After having gotten ourselves com- 
fortable, orders came to pack up and be ready to 
move. I had carried in my knapsack a pair of lady's 
shoes captured from Bank's plunder at Winchester. 
These I gave to a camp scavenger who came from 
the town for plunder. 

Little did we dream of the marching and fight- 
ing that were in store for us. Jackson, having van- 
quished three armies in the Valley, was now ordered 
to Richmond with his "bloody brigades." 

We left Staunton about the twentieth of June, 
crossed the Blue Ridge at Rockfish Gap, passed 
through Charlottesville, and were choked, day after 
day, by the red dust of the Piedmont region. In 
Louisa County we had rain and mud to contend 
with, thence through the low, flat lands of Han- 
over, bearing to the left after passing Ashland. 

Our destination was now evident. The army 
around Richmond was waiting for Jackson to dis- 
lodge McClellan from the Chickahominy swamps, 
and our attack was to be made on his right flank. 
It seems that our powers of endurance had been 
over-estimated or the distance miscalculated, as the 
initiatory battle at Mechanicsville was fought by 
A. P. Hill without Jackson's aid. This was the 



84 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

first of the seven days' fighting around Richmond. 
We arrived in the neighborhood of Cold Harbor 
about two p. M. on June 27, and approached more 
and more nearly the preliminary cannonading, most 
of which was done by the enemy's guns. About 
three o'clock the musketry began, and soon there- 
after the infantry of our brigade was halted in the 
road alongside of us, and, loading their guns, moved 
forward. 

In a short time the fighting became furious, done 
almost entirely on our side with small arms, as few 
positions could be found for artillery. For two or 
three hours the noise of the battle remained almost 
stationary, accentuated at intervals by the shouting 
of the combatants, as ground was lost or won. It 
was here that General Lee said to General Jackson, 
"That fire is very heavy ! Do you think your men 
can stand it?" The reply was, "They can stand 
almost anything ; they can stand that !" We stood 
expecting every moment to be ordered in, as every 
effort was made by our officers to find a piece of 
open ground on w^hich we could unlimber. By sun- 
down the firing had gradually lessened and was far- 
ther from us, and when night came on the enemy 
had been driven from their fortifications and quiet 
was restored. The loss on our side was fearful. 
Among the killed was my cousin, James Allen, col- 
onel of the Second Virginia Regiment. 

While lying among the guns in park that night 
my rest was frequently disturbed by the antics of 




William j\f. Willson 

(Coinnr:il ) 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 85 

one of the battery horses suffering with an attack 
of "blind staggers," and floundering around in the 
darkness among the sleeping men. 

Before leaving our place of bivouac the next 
morning, a visit from General Lee, attended by his 
full staff, to his son Robert, gave us our first oppor- 
tunity of seeing this grand man. The interview be- 
tween father and son is described by the latter in his 
"Recollections and Letters of Gen. Robert E. Lee," 
which I quote : 

"The day after the battle of Cold Harbor, during 
the 'Seven Days' fighting around Richmond, was 
the first time I met my father after I had joined 
General Jackson. The tremendous work Stone- 
wall's men had performed, including the rapid 
march from the Valley of Virginia, the short ra- 
tions, the bad water, and the great heat, had begun 
to tell upon us, and I was pretty well worn out. On 
this particular morning my battery had not moved 
from its bivouac ground of the previous night, but 
was parked in an open field, all ready waiting or- 
ders. Most of the men were lying down, many sleep- 
ing, myself among the latter number. To get some 
shade and to be out of the way I had crawled under 
a caisson, and was busy making up many lost hours 
of rest. Suddenly I was rudely awakened by a 
comrade, prodding me with a sponge-staff as I had 
failed to be aroused by his call, and was told to get 
up and come out, that some one wished to see me. 
Half-awake I staggered out, and found myself face 



86 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

to face with General Lee and his staff. Their fresh 
uniforms, bright equipments, and well-groomed 
horses contrasted so forcibly with the war-worn 
appearance of our command that I was completely 
dazed. It took me a moment or two to realize what 
it all meant, but when I saw my father's loving eyes 
and smile it became clear to me that he had ridden 
by to see if I was safe and to ask how I was getting 
along. I remember well how curiously those with 
him gazed at me, and I am sure that it must have 
struck them as very odd that such a dirty, ragged, 
unkempt youth could have been the son of this 
grand-looking victorious commander. 

'T was introduced recently to a gentleman, now 
living in Washington, who, when he found out my 
name, said he had met me once before and that it 
was on this occasion. At that time he was a mem- 
ber of the Tenth Virginia Infantry, Jackson's divi- 
sion, and was camped near our battery. Seeing 
General Lee and staff approach, he, with others, 
drew near to have a look at them, and witnessed 
the meeting between father and son. He also said 
that he had often told of the incident as illustrating 
the peculiar composition of our army." 

As we moved on over the battlefield that morning, 
the number of slain on both sides was fully in pro- 
portion to the magnitude of the conflict of the day 
preceding. In a piece of woods through which we 
passed, and through which the battle had surged 
back and forth, after careful observation I failed 




Capt. W. T. Poague 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 87 

to find a tree the size of a man's body with less than 
a dozen bullet-marks on it within six feet of the 
ground, and many of them were scarred to the tops. 
Not even the small saplings had escaped, yet some 
of the men engaged had passed through the battle 
untouched. I was with my messmate, William Boil- 
ing, when he here discovered and recognized the 
dead body of his former school-teacher. Wood 
McDonald, of Winchester. 

On the 28th we crossed the Chickahominy on 
Grapevine Bridge, the long approaches to which 
were made of poles, thence across the York River 
Railroad at Savage Station. As we moved along 
fighting was almost constantly heard in advance of 
us, and rumors were rife that the trap was so set 
as to capture the bulk of McClellan's army. Near 
White Oak Swamp we reached another battlefield, 
and, after night, went into bivouac among the 
enemy's dead. About ten o'clock I, with several 
others, was detailed to go back with some wagons, 
to get a supply of captured ammunition. For four 
or five miles we jolted over corduroy roads, loaded 
our wagons, and got back to the battery just before 
dawn of the following morning. Scarcely had I 
stretched myself on the ground when the bugle 
sounded reveille, and even those who had spent the 
night undisturbed were with difficulty aroused from 
sleep. I remember seeing Captain Poague go to a 
prostrate form that did not respond to the sum- 
mons, and call out, "Wake up, wake up!" But, 



88 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

seeing no sign of stirring, he used his foot to give 
it a shake, when he discovered he was trying to 
rouse a dead Yankee ! Having been on duty all 
night I was being left unmolested to the last mo- 
ment, when Joe Shaner came to me, as usual, and 
very quietly rolled up my blanket with his, to be 
carried on his off-horse. This was the battlefield 
of White Oak Swamp, fought on June 30. Along 
the march from Cold Harbor we had passed several 
Federal field-hospitals containing their sick, some 
of them in tents, some lying in bunks made of poles 
supported on upright forks. These and their old 
camps were infested with vermin — "war bugs," as 
we usually called them — which, with what we 
already had after two weeks of constant march, 
with neither time nor material for a change, made 
us exceedingly uncomfortable. 



CHAPTER X 

GENERAL JACKSON COMPLIMENTS THE BATTERY— 
MALVERN HILL— MY VISIT TO RICHMOND 

On July 1 we passed near the battlefield known 
as Frazier's Farm, also fought on June 30 by the 
divisions of Magruder, Longstreet, and others, and 
arrived early in the day in front of Malvern Hill. 
For a mile or more our road ran through a dense 
body of woods extending to the high range of hills 
occupied by the enemy. At a point where another 
road crossed the one on which we had traveled, and 
where stood two old gate-posts, we were ordered to 
mount the caissons and limbers and trot on toward 
the firing already begun. This order can be attrib- 
uted to the reputation our battery had made, and is 
a matter of record, which I quote: "At Malvern 
Hill the battery was openly complimented by Gen- 
eral Jackson in connection with Carpenter's battery. 
When Gen. D. H. Hill asked General Jackson if he 
could furnish him a battery which would hold a 
certain position, from which two or three batteries 
had been driven by the galling fire of the enemy 
he said, 'Yes, two,' and called for Carpenter and 
Poague, and General Hill ordered Captain Poague 
to bring up his battery at once." 



90 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Taking the road to the left, we soon emerged 
from the woods into a wheat-field, the grain stand- 
ing in shocks. While seated on a caisson, driving 
down this road at a trot, I was suddenly seized with 
a presentiment that I was to be killed in this battle, 
the only time such a feeling came over me during 
the war. Finding myself becoming rapidly demor- 
alized, I felt that, in order to avoid disgrace, I must 
get down from that seat and shake the wretched 
thing off. So down I jumped and took it afoot, 
alongside of the gun, as we passed down a little 
ravine which was being raked from end to end by 
the enemy's shells. The diversion worked like a 
charm, for in two minutes the apprehension toned 
down to the normal proportions of "stage fright." 
We soon were in position with our six guns ablaze. 
The enemy's batteries were posted on considerably 
higher ground, with three times as many guns and 
of heavier calibre than ours, which served us the 
same galling fire that had wrecked the batteries pre- 
ceding us. After having been engaged for an hour, 
a battery posted some two hundred yards to our left 
was stampeded and came by us under whip and 
spur, announcing, as they passed, that they were 
flanked by Federal cavalry. In the commotion, 
some one in our battery called out that we had orders 
to withdraw, and, before it could be corrected, eight 
or ten of the company, joining in the rout, beat a 
retreat to the woods, for which they were afterward 
punished; some being assigned as drivers, and one 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 91 

or two gallant fellows having it ever afterward to 
dim their glory. We soon, however, recovered from 
the confusion, but with diminished numbers. I 
know that for a part of the time I filled the posi- 
tions of 7, 5, and 2 at my gun, until a gallant little 
lieutenant named Day, of some general's staff, re- 
lieved me of part of the work. My brother John, 
working at the gun next to mine, received a painful 
shell-wound in the side and had to leave the field. 
His place was supplied by Doran, an Irishman, and 
in a few minutes Doran's arm was shattered by a 
shell, causing him to cry out most lustily. My 
brother David, shortly after this, was disabled by 
a blow on his arm, and, at my solicitation, left the 
field. 

I would suggest to any young man when enlist- 
ing, to select a company in which he has no near 
kindred. The concern as to one's own person af- 
fords sufficient entertainment, without being kept 
in suspense as to who went down when a shell ex- 
plodes in proximity to another member of the 
family. 

John Fuller, driver at the piece next on my right, 
was crouched down on his knees, with his head 
leaning forward, holding his horses. Seeing a 
large shell descending directly toward him, I called 
to him to look out! When he raised his head, this 
shell was within five feet of him and grazed his 
back before entering the ground close behind him. 
He was severely shocked, and for some days unfit 



92 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

for duty. At the first battle of Fredericksburg, 
less than a year after this, while holding his horses 
and kneeling in the same posture, a shell descend- 
ing in like manner struck him square on his head 
and passed down through the length of his body. A 
month after the battle I saw all that was left of his 
cap — the morocco vizor — lying on the ground 
where he was killed. 

Behind us, scattered over the wheat-field, were 
a number of loose artillery horses from the batteries 
that had been knocked out. Taking advantage of 
the opportunity to get a meal, one of these stood 
eating quietly at a shock of wheat, when another 
horse came galloping toward him from the woods. 
When within about thirty yards of the animal feed- 
ing, a shell burst between the two. The approach- 
ing horse instantly wheeled, and was flying for the 
woods when another shell burst a few feet in front 
of him, turning him again to the field as before; 
the old warrior ate away at his shock, perfectly un- 
concerned. 

The firing on both sides, especially on ours, was 
now diminishing — and soon ceased. In this en- 
counter ten or twelve members of the company were 
wounded, and Frank Herndon, wheel driver at my 
caisson, was killed. After remaining quiet for a 
short time we were ordered back, and again found 
ourselves at the cross-roads, near the old gate- 
posts, which seemed to be the headquarters of Gen- 
erals Lee, Jackson and D. H. Hill. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 93 

John Brown, one of our company who had been 
detailed to care for the wounded, had taken a seat 
behind a large oak-tree in the edge of the woods 
near us. A thirty-two-pound shot struck the tree, 
and, passing through the center of it, took Brown's 
head entirely off. We spent several hours standing 
in the road, which was filled with artillery, and our 
generals were evidently at their wits' ends. To- 
ward evening we moved farther back into the 
woods, where many regiments of our infantry were 
in bivouac. The enemy had now turned their fire 
in this direction. Both that of their heavy field- 
pieces and gunboats, and enormous shells and solid 
shot, were constantly crashing through the timber, 
tearing off limbs and the tops of trees, which some- 
times fell among the troops, maiming and killing 
men. 

After sundown a charge was made against the 
enemy's left, which was repulsed with terrible loss 
to our men. After this the enemy continued shell- 
ing the woods; in fact their whole front, until ten 
o'clock at night. Our battery had moved back at 
least two miles and gone into park in a field, where, 
at short intervals, a large gunboat shell would burst 
over us, scattering pieces around, while the main 
part would whirr on, it seemed, indefinitely. 

The next day, the enemy having abandoned Mal- 
vern Hill during the night, we made a rapid start 
in pursuit toward Harrison's Landing, but sud- 
denly came to a halt and countermarched to a place 



94 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

where several roads crossed, on all of which were 
columns of infantry and artillery. During the re- 
mainder of the day the soldiers gave vent to their 
feelings by cheering the different generals as they 
passed to and fro, Jackson naturally receiving the 
lion's share. 

McClellan's army being now under cover of then- 
gunboats, and gunboats being held in mortal terror 
by the Confederates, we began slowly to make our 
way out of this loathsome place, a place which I felt 
should be cheerfully given up to the Northerners, 
where they could inhale the poisonous vapors of the 
bogs, and prosecute the war in continuous battle 
with the mosquitoes and vermin. The water of the 
few sluggish streams, although transparent, was 
highly colored by the decaying vegetable matter and 
the roots of the juniper. For the first time in my 
life I was now out of sight of the mountains. I 
felt utterly lost, and found myself repeatedly ris- 
ing on tip-toe and gazing for a view of them in the 
distance. Being very much worsted physically by 
the campaign and malarial atmosphere, I was put 
on the sick-list, and given permission to go to Rich- 
mond to recuperate. 

My entrance into the city contrasted strikingly 
with that of soldiers I had read of after a series of 
victories in battle. The portable forge belonging 
to our battery needed some repairs, which could be 
made at a foundry in Richmond, and, as no other 
conveyance was available, I took passage on it. So 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 95 

I entered the city, the first I had ever visited, after 
dark, seated on a blacksmith-shop drawn by four 
mules. Not having received my eleven dollars a 
month for a long time, I could not pay a hotel-bill, 
so I climbed the fence into a wagon-yard, retired to 
bed in a horse-cart, and slept soundly till daylight. 
That morning I took breakfast with my cousin, 
Robert Barton, of the First Virginia Cavalry, at his 
boarding-house. After which, having gotten a sick 
furlough, he hurried to take the train, to go to his 
home, and left me feeling very forlorn. Thinking 
that I could fare no worse in camp than I would in 
the midst of the painful surroundings of a hospital, 
I returned in the afternoon to the battery. The 
arduous service undergone during the past three 
weeks, or rather three months, had left the men 
greatly depleted in health and vigor. Many were 
seriously sick, and those still on duty were more or 
less run-down. 



CHAPTER XI 

FROM RICHMOND TO GORDONSVILLE BATTLE OF 

CEDAR RUN DEATH OF GENERAL WINDER DE- 
SERTERS SHOT CROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCK 

At the conclusion of this sojourn in camp, Jack- 
son's command again took the march and toiled 
along the line of the Central Railroad toward Gor- 
donsville. I, being sick, was given transportation 
by rail in a freight-car with a mixture of troops. A 
week was spent in Louisa County, in the celebrated 
Green Spring neighborhood, where we fared well. 
My old mess, numbering seventeen when I joined 
it, had by this time been greatly reduced. My bro- 
ther John had gotten a discharge from the army, 
his office of commissioner of chancery exempting 
him. He re-enlisted later and served with the bat- 
tery until Appomattox. Gregory, Frank Preston 
and Stuart had been left in Winchester in the 
enemy's lines severely wounded. Singleton had been 
captured at Port Republic, and others were off on 
sick-leave. My bedfellow, Walter Packard, had con- 
tracted fever in the Chickahominy swamps, from 
which lie soon after died. He had been left at the 
house of a friend in Hanover County, attended by 
his brother. In his delirium he impatiently rehearsed 
the names of his companions, calling the roll of the 

96 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 97 

company over and over. From Green Spring we 
marched to the neighborhood of Gordonsville, where 
we remained in camp until about the fifth or sixth 
of August. 

We now heard reports of the approach of the re- 
nowned General Pope with "headquarters in the 
saddle," along the line of the old Orange and Alex- 
andria Railroad. On August 7, we moved out of 
camp, going in his direction. On the third day's 
march, being too unwell to foot it, I was riding in 
the ambulance. About noon indications in front 
showed that a battle was at hand. I was excused 
from duty, but was asked by the captain if I would 
assist in caring for the wounded. This I declined 
to do. About this time the battery was ordered for- 
ward, and, seeing my gun start off at a trot, I 
mounted and rode in with it. We had a long hill 
to descend, from the top of which could be seen and 
heard the cannonading in front. Then, entering 
an extensive body of woods, we passed by the bod- 
ies of four infantrymen lying side by side, having 
just been killed by a bursting shell. 

We took position in the road near the corner of 
an open field with our two Parrott guns and one 
gun of Carpenter's battery, en echelon, with each 
gun's horses and limber off on its left among the 
trees. Both Capt. Joe Carpenter and his brother, 
John, who was his first lieutenant, were with this 
gun, as was their custom when any one of their 
guns went into action. We soon let the enemy 



98 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

know where we were, and they repHed promptly, 
getting our range in a few rounds. 

General Winder, commander of our brigade, dis- 
mounted, and, in his shirt-sleeves, had taken his 
stand a few paces to the left of my gun and with his 
field-glass was intently observing the progress of 
the battle. We had been engaged less than fifteen 
minutes when Captain Carpenter was struck in the 
head by a piece of shell, from which, after linger- 
ing a few weeks, he died. Between my gun and 
limber, where General Winder stood, was a con- 
stant stream of shells tearing through the trees and 
bursting close by. While the enemy's guns were 
changing their position he gave some directions, 
which we could not hear for the surrounding noise. 
I, being nearest, turned and, walking toward him, 
asked what he had said. As he put his hand to his 
mouth to repeat the remark, a shell passed through 
his side and arm, tearing them fearfully. He fell 
straight back at full length, and lay quivering on 
the ground. He had issued strict orders that morn- 
ing that no one, except those detailed for the pur- 
pose, should leave his post to carry off the wounded, 
in obedience to which I turned to the gun and went 
to work. He was soon carried off, however, and 
died a few hours later. 

The next man struck was Major Snowden An- 
drews, afterward colonel of artillery. While stand- 
ing near by us a shell burst as it passed him, tearing 
his clothes and wounding him severely. Though 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 99 

drawn to a stooping posture, he lived many years. 
Next I saw a ricocheting shell strike Captain Cas- 
kie, of Richmond, Virginia, on his seat, which 
knocked him eight or ten feet and his red cap some 
feet farther. He did not get straightened up until 
he had overtaken his cap on the opposite side of 
some bushes, through which they had both been pro- 
pelled. Lieutenant Graham, of our battery, also 
received a painful, though not serious, wound be- 
fore the day was over. This proved to be a very 
dangerous place for officers, but not a private sol- 
dier was touched. 

By frequent firing during the campaign the vent 
of my gun had been burned to several times its 
proper size, so that at each discharge an excess of 
smoke gushed from it. After the captain's atten- 
tion was called to it, it happened that a tree in front, 
but somewhat out of line, was cut off by a Federal 
shell just as our gun fired. Supposing the defect 
had caused a wild shot, we were ordered to take the 
gun to the rear, the other gun soon following. We 
got away at a fortunate time, as the Second Brigade 
of Jackson's division was flanked by the enemy and 
driven over the place a few minutes later. One 
company in the Twenty -first Virginia Regiment lost, 
in a few minutes, seventeen men killed, besides those 
wounded. The flankers, however, were soon at- 
tacked by fresh troops, who drove them back and 
took a large number of prisoners, who walked and 
looked, as they passed, as if they had done their 



100 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

best and had nothing of which to be ashamed. By 
nightfall the whole of Pope's army had been driven 
back, and we held the entire battlefield. This battle 
was called Cedar Run by the Confederates, and 
Slaughter's Mountain by the Federals. 

On the following day we retraced our steps and 
occupied an excellent camping-ground near Gor- 
donsville. Shortly after our arrival, my brother 
David, who had been absent on sick-leave, returned 
from home, bringing a large mess-chest of delicious 
edibles, which we enjoyed immensely, having Wil- 
lie Preston, from Lexington, who had just joined 
the College company, to dine with us. From a 
nearby cornfield we managed to supply ourselves 
with roasting ears, and the number a young Con- 
federate could consume in a day would have been 
ample rations for a horse. 

While here we had visits from some of our 
former messmates. One of them, Frank Singleton, 
after being captured at Port Republic had been 
taken to Fort Warren, where were in confinement 
as prisoners members of the Maryland legislature. 
Generals Pillow and Buckner, and others captured 
at Fort Donelson. Singleton gave glowing accounts 
of the "to-do" that was made over him, he being 
the only representative from the army of Stonewall, 
whose fame was now filling the world. His pres- 
ence even became known outside of prison-walls, 
and brought substantial tokens of esteem and sym- 
pathy. 



CTV 




Robert A. Gibson 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 101 

Gregory, who we supposed had received his death- 
wound at Winchester in May, after escaping into 
our hues spent a day or two with us. Both, how- 
ever, having gotten discharges, left us — Singleton 
to go to Kentucky, his native State, to raise a com- 
pany of cavalry under Morgan, and Gregory to be- 
come captain of ordnance. 

An extensive move was evidently now on foot, 
and about August 17th it began, proving to be by 
far the most eventful of that eventful year. On 
reaching the Rapidan, a few miles distant, we were 
ordered to leave all baggage we could not carry on 
our backs, and in that August weather we chose to 
make our burdens light. This was the last we saw 
of our baggage, as it was plundered and stolen by 
camp-followers and shirkers who stayed behind. 

Having recuperated somewhat during my stay 
in camp I had set out, with the battery, for the 
march, but a few days of hot sun soon weakened me 
again, so I had to be excused from duty, and remain 
with the wagons. Part of a day with them was 
sufficient, so I returned to the battery, sick or well. 
Soon after my return, about sundown, Arthur Rob- 
inson, of Baltimore, whom I had regarded as a sort 
of dude, brought me a cup of delicious tea and sev- 
eral lumps of cut loaf-sugar. Cut loaf-sugar! What 
associations it awakened and how kindly I felt to- 
ward the donor ever afterward ! As I dropped each 
lump into the tea I could sympathize with an old 
lady in Rockbridge County, who eyed a lump of it 



102 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

lovingly and said, "Before the war I used to buy 
that by the pound." 

On the following morning, August 18, Gen. 
J. E. B. Stuart came dashing into our camp bare- 
headed and, for him, very much excited. He had 
just narrowly escaped capture by a scouting-party 
of Federal cavalry at a house near Verdiersville, 
where he had passed the night. Leaving his hat, he 
mounted and leaped the fence with his horse. His 
adjutant, however. Major Fitzhugh, in possession 
of General Lee's instructions to General Stuart, was 
captured, and thus General Pope informed of the 
plan of campaign. Four days later General Stuart, 
with a large force of cavalry, having passed to the 
rear of the Federal army, captured, at Catlett's Sta- 
tion, General Pope's headquarters wagon with his 
official papers and personal effects. As his plan of 
campaign was to be governed by General Lee's 
movements, these papers were not very reliable 
guides. 

Our stay in this bivouac was only thirty-six 
hours in duration, but another scene witnessed in 
the afternoon leaves an indelible impression. To 
escape the arduous service to which we had for 
some time been subjected, a few, probably eight or 
ten men, of Jackson's old division had deserted. Of 
these, three had been caught, one of whom was a 
member of the Stonewall Brigade, and they were 
sentenced by court-martial to be shot. As a warn- 
ing to others, the whole division was mustered out 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 103 

to witness the painfully solemn spectacle. After 
marching in column through intervening woods, 
with bands playing the dead march, we entered an 
extensive field. Here the three men, blindfolded, 
were directed to kneel in front of their open graves, 
and a platoon of twelve or fifteen men, half of them 
with their muskets loaded with ball, and half with 
blank cartridges (so that no man would feel that he 
had fired a fatal shot), at the word "Fire!" emptied 
their guns at close range. Then the whole division 
marched by within a few steps to view their lifeless 
bodies. 

Jackson's object now was to cross the Rappa- 
hannock, trying first one ford and then another. 
We spent most of the following day galloping to 
and fro, firing and being fired at. At one ford my 
gun crossed the river, but, as no support followed 
it, although the rest of our battery and Brocken- 
brough's Maryland Battery were close by, we soon 
recrossed. Rain during the afternoon and night 
made the river past fording, catching Early's bri- 
gade, which had crossed further up-stream, on the 
enemy's side. He was not pressed, however, and by 
the next afternoon the whole of Jackson's command 
had crossed the stream by the fords nearer its source, 
at Hinson's mill. Thence we traveled northwest 
through Little Washington, the county-seat of Rap- 
pahannock. Then to Flint Hall, at the base of the 
Blue Ridge. Then turned southeast into Fauquier 
County and through Warrenton, the prettiest town 



104 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

I had seen since leaving the Valley. We had made 
an extensive detour, and were no longer disturbed 
by General Pope, who possibly thought Jackson was 
on his way to Ohio or New York, and a week later 
no doubt regretted that one of those distant places 
had not been his destination. 

Before reaching Thoroughfare Gap we had the 
pleasure of a visit from Mr. Robert Boiling, or 
rather found him waiting on the roadside to see his 
son, of our mess, having driven from his home in 
the neighborhood. His son had been left behind 
sick, but his messmates did full justice to the bounti- 
ful supply of refreshments brought in the carriage 
for him. I remember, as we stood regaling our- 
selves, when some hungry infantryman would fall 
out of ranks, and ask to purchase a "wee bite," how 
delicately we would endeavor to "shoo" him off, 
without appearing to the old gentleman as the nat- 
ural heirs to what he had brought for his boy. 



CHAPTER XII 

CAPTURE OF RAILROAD TRAINS AT MANASSAS JUNC- 
TION BATTLE WITH TAYLOR's NEW JERSEY 

BRIGADE NIGHT MARCH BY LIGHT OF BURN- 
ING CARS 

Our halts and opportunities for rest had been 
and continued to be few and of short duration, trav- 
eling steadily on throughout the twenty-four hours. 
It has been many years since, but how vividly some 
scenes are recalled, others vague and the order of 
succession forgotten. After passing through Thor- 
oughfare Gap we moved on toward Manassas Junc- 
tion, arriving within a mile or two of the place 
shortly after dawn, when we came upon a sleepy 
Federal cavalryman mounted on a fine young horse. 
Lieutenant Brown took him and his arms in charge 
and rode the horse for a few days, but, learning that 
he had been taken from a farmer in the neighbor- 
hood, returned him to his owner. As we approached 
the Junction several cannon-shots warned us that 
some force of the enemy was there, but not Gen- 
eral Pope, as we had left him many miles in our 
rear. 

In the regiment of our cavalry, acting as a van- 
guard, I had but two acquaintances — old college- 
mates — and these were the only two members of the 

105 



106 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

command I met. One of them gave me a loaf of 
baker's bread, the other presented me with a hand- 
ful of cigars, and they both informed us that they 
had made a big capture, which we would soon see. 
The samples they had brought made us the more 
anxious. Arriving in sight of the place, we saw the 
tracks of both railroads closely covered for half a 
mile with the cars filled with army supplies of every 
description. The artillery that had been firing a 
short time before opened on us again, while we were 
preparing to help ourselves, but not before one of 
my messmates had secured a cup of molasses. With 
the help of this, my loaf of bread was soon devoured 
and with a relish contrasting very favorably with 
my sudden loss of appetite for the beans at Cedar 
Creek a few months before. On this occasion we 
managed to appease our hunger with very little in- 
terruption from the flying shells. The firing, how- 
ever, was at long range and soon ceased, and we 
resumed the march, saddened to part with so rich 
a booty and the opportunity to fill our stomachs and 
empty haversacks. 

As we moved quietly along with General Jack- 
son and one or two of his staff riding at the front 
of the battery, there suddenly appeared, about a mile 
ahead of us, a line of bayonets glistening in the sun- 
light. As we halted I heard General Jackson and 
those about him questioning each other and specu- 
lating as to what troops they could be, whether 
friend or foe. Their bayonets were evidently too 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 107 

brigbt for our war-worn weapons, and the direction 
from which they came and, a little later, the color 
of their uniforms being distinguishable, no longer 
left room for doubt. It proved to be a brigade of 
New Jersey infantry commanded by General Tay- 
lor, who had just arrived by rail from Alexandria. 
Rodes's division was on our left and not three hun- 
dred yards distant. As the enemy advanced, Jack- 
son ordered Rodes to halt. The Federal brigade 
came up on our right about one hundred and twenty- 
five yards from us, marching by companies in 
column. 

Jackson ordered us to fire on them with canister, 
which we did, and very rapidly, as they passed. 
Then, limbering up, we galloped again to their flank 
and repeated the operation; meanwhile, one of our 
batteries immediately in their front firing at them 
with shells. Jackson, who accompanied us, then 
drew a white handkerchief from his pocket, and, 
waving it up and down, ordered them to surrender, 
in response to which one of them raised his gun and 
fired deliberately at him. I heard the Minie as it 
whistled by him. After limbering up our guns for 
the third time to keep in close range, I turned to get 
my blanket, which I had left on the ground while 
engaged, and, as I ran to overtake the guns, found 
myself between Rodes's line, which had now ad- 
vanced, and the Federals, in easy range of each 
other. I expected, of course, to be riddled with 
bullets, but neither side fired a shot. 



108 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

The Federals moved on in perfect order, then 
suddenly broke and came back like a flock of sheep; 
and, most singular of all, Rodes's division was 
ordered back and let them pass, we still firing. It 
was a fine sample of a sham battle, as I saw none 
of them killed and heard there w^ere very few casual- 
ties, and the only shot they fired was the one at Gen- 
eral Jackson. After crossing a ravine along which 
ran a creek, they had a hill to ascend which kept 
them still in full view, while we fired at them with 
shells and solid shot as they streamed along the 
paths. Maupin, a member of our detachment, 
picked up a canteen of whiskey which had been 
thrown aside in their flight. As it was the only 
liquid to which we had access on that hot August 
day, we each took a turn, and soon undertook to 
criticise our gunner's bad shooting, telling him 
among other things that if he would aim lower he 
would do more execution. 

After the enemy had disappeared from our sight, 
and the battery had gone into park, I borrowed Ser- 
geant Dick Payne's horse to ride to the creek, over 
which the enemy had retreated, for a canteen of 
water. When within a few steps of the branch, I 
passed two artillerymen from another battery on 
foot, who were on the same errand, but none of us 
armed. We saw a Yankee infantryman a short 
distance off, hurrying along with gun on shoulder. 
We called to him to surrender, and, as I rode to get 
his gun, another one following came in sight. When 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 109 

I confronted him and ordered him to throw down 
his gun, he promptly obeyed. The gun, a brand- 
new one, was loaded, showing a bright cap under 
the hammer. The man was a German, and tried 
hard, in broken Enghsh, to explain, either how he 
had fallen behind, or to apologize for coming to 
fight us — I could not tell which. 

We now had full and undisturbed possession of 
Manassas Junction and of the long trains of cap- 
tured cars, through the doors and openings of which 
could be seen the United States army supplies of all 
kinds and of the best quality. On a flat car there 
stood two new pieces of artillery made of a bronze- 
colored metal, and of a different style from any we 
had yet seen. In our last battle, that of Slaughter's 
Mountain, we had noticed, for the first time, a sing- 
ular noise made by some of the shells fired at us, 
and quite like the shrill note of a tree-frog on a big 
scale. Since then we had sometimes speculated as 
to what new engine of war we had to contend with. 
Here it was, and known as the three-inch rifled gun, 
a most accurate shooter, and later on much used by 
both Federals and Confederates. 

In view of the fact that almost all of the field 
artillery used by the Confederates was manufact- 
ured in the North, a supply for both armies seemed 
to have been wisely provided in the number they 
turned out. Here we spent the remainder of the 
day, but not being allowed to plunder the cars did 
not have the satisfaction of replacing our worn-out 



no THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

garments with the new ones in sight. We were very- 
willing to don the blue uniforms, but General Jack- 
son thought otherwise. What we got to eat was 
also disappointing, and not of a kind to invigorate, 
consisting, as it did, of hard-tack, pickled oysters, 
and canned stuff generally. 

Darkness had scarcely fallen before we were 
again on the march, and before two miles had been 
traveled the surrounding country was illuminated 
by the blazing cars and their contents, fired to pre- 
vent their falling again into the hands of their origi- 
nal owners. The entire night was spent marching 
through woods and fields, but in what direction we 
had no idea. Notwithstanding the strict orders to 
the contrary, two of our boys — Billy Bumpas and 
John Gibbs — had procured from a car about half a 
bushel of nice white sugar, put it in a sack-bag, and 
tied it securely, they thought, to the axle of a cais- 
son. During the night either the bag stretched or 
the string slipped, letting a corner drag on the 
ground, which soon wore a hole. When daylight 
broke, the first thing that met their eager gaze was 
an empty bag dangling in the breeze and visions of 
a trail of white sugar mingling with the dust miles 
behind. Many times afterward, in winter quarters 
or during apple-dumpling season, have I heard them 
lament the loss of that sweetening. 

There are various scenes and incidents on the 
battlefield, in camp, and on the march which leave 
an indelible impression. Of these, among the most 




D. (iAKDlNKK TyI.KR 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 111 

vivid to me is that of a column of men and horses 
at dawn of day, after having marched throughout 
the night. The weary animals, with heads hanging 
and gaunt sides, put their feet to the ground as 
softly as if fearing to arouse their drowsy mates or 
give themselves a jar. A man looks some years 
older than on the preceding day, and his haggard 
face as if it had been unwashed for a week. Not 
yet accustomed to the light, and thinking his coun- 
tenance unobserved, as in the darkness, he makes 
no effort to assume an expression more cheerful than 
in keeping with his solemn feelings, and, when 
spoken to, his distressful attempt to smile serves only 
to emphasize the need of "sore labor's bath." Van- 
ity, however, seems to prevent each one from seeing 
in his neighbor's visage a photograph of his own. 
But, with an hour of sunlight and a halt for break- 
fast with a draught of rare coffee, he stands a new 
creature. On the morning after our departure from 
Manassas Junction, having marched all night, we 
had a good illustration of this. 

About seven o'clock we came to a Federal wagon 
which had upset over a bank and was lying, bottom 
upward, in a ditch below the road. Around it were 
boxes and packages of food, desiccated vegetables 
red with tomatoes and yellow with pumpkin. Here 
a timely halt was called. Across the ditch, near 
where we went into park, the infantry who had pre- 
ceded us had carried from the overturned wagon a 
barrel of molasses with the head knocked out. Surg- 



112 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ing around it was a swarm of men with canteens, 
tin cups, and frying-pans — anything that would hold 
molasses. As each vessel was filled by a dip into 
the barrel it was held aloft, to prevent its being 
knocked from the owner's grasp as he made his way 
out through the struggling mass ; and woe be to him 
that was hatless ! as the stream that trickled from 
above, over head and clothes, left him in a sorry 
plight. 



CHAPTER XIII 

CIRCUITOUS NIGHT MARCH FIRST DAY OF SECOND 

MANASSAS ARRIVAL OF LONGSTREET's CORPS 

Here we halted long enough for a hurried break- 
fast for men and horses. Sleep did not seem to enter 
into Jackson's calculations, or time was regarded as 
too precious to be allowed for it. We were on the 
move again by noon and approaching the scene of 
the battle of July, 1861. This was on Thursday, 
August 26, 1862, and a battle was evidently to open 
at any moment. In the absence of Henry, our gun- 
ner, who was sick and off duty, I was appointed to 
fill his place. And it was one of the few occasions, 
most probably the only one during the war, that I 
felt the slightest real desire to exclaim, with the Cor- 
poral at Waterloo, "Let the battle begin!" About 
two p. M. we went into position, but, before firing 
a shot, suddenly moved off, and, marching almost in 
a semi-circle, came up in the rear of the infantry, 
who were now hotly engaged. This was the begin- 
ning of the second battle of Manassas, during the 
first two days of which, and the day preceding, 
Jackson's command was in great suspense, and, 
with a wide-awake and active foe, would have been 
in great jeopardy. He was entirely in the rear of 

113 



114 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER ' 

the Federal army, with only his own corps, while 
Longstreet had not yet passed through Thorough- 
fare Gap, a narrow defile miles away. The rapid 
and steady roll of the musketry, however, indicated 
that there was no lack of confidence on the part of 
his men, though the line of battle had changed front 
and was now facing in the opposite direction from 
the one held a few hours before. Moving through 
a body of woods toward the firing-line we soon be- 
gan meeting and passing the stream of wounded 
men making their way to the rear. And here our 
attention was again called to a singular and unac- 
countable fact, which was noticed and remarked re- 
peatedly throughout the war. It was that in one 
battle the large majority of the less serious wounds 
received were in the same portion of the body. In 
this case, fully three-fourths of the men we met 
were wounded in the left hand ; in another battle 
the same proportion were wounded in the right 
hand ; while in another the head was the attractive 
mark for flying bullets, and so on. I venture the 
assertion that every old soldier whose attention is 
called to it will verify the statement. 

The battle was of about two hours duration, and 
by sundown the firing had entirely ceased, the enemy 
being driven from the field, leaving their dead and 
wounded. The infantry of the Stonewall Brigade 
had been in the thickest of it all and had suffered 
severe loss. 

Willie Preston, of the College company, less than 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 115 

eighteen years of age, a most attractive and promis- 
ing youth, received a mortal wound. His dying 
messages were committed to Hugh White, the cap- 
tain of his company, who, two days later, was him- 
self instantly killed. On the ground where some of 
the heaviest fighting took place there stood a neat 
log house, the home of a farmer's family. From it 
they had, of course, hurriedly fled, leaving their cow 
and a half -grown colt in the yard. Both of these 
were killed. I saw also, on this field, a dead rabbit 
and a dead field-lark — innocent victims of man's 
brutality ! 

A quiet night followed, and, except for those of 
us who were on guard, the first unbroken rest we 
had had for almost a week. Next morning, after 
breakfasting leisurely, we went into position oppo- 
site the enemy, who occupied a long range of hills 
too distant for serious damage. But, after we had 
shelled each other for half an hour, one of our in- 
fantry regiments emerged from the woods a short 
distance to our right and stood in line of battle most 
needlessly exposed. In less than five minutes a shell 
burst among them, killing and wounding eleven men. 
This over, we moved to a haystack nearby, where 
our horses had more than one refreshing feed dur- 
ing lulls in the battle. It seemed, also, an attractive 
place for General Jackson, as he was seldom far 
from it till the close of the battle on the following 
day. 

An hour later, while engaged in another artillery 



116 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

encounter, our detachment received a very peremp- 
tory and officious order from Major Shoemaker, 
commanding the artillery of the division. My 
friend and former messmate, W. G. Williamson, 
now a lieutenant of engineers, having no duty in 
that line to perform, had hunted us up, and, with 
his innate gallantry, was serving as a cannoneer at 
the gun. Offended at Shoemaker's insolent and 
ostentatious manner, we answered him as he de- 
served. Furious at such impudence and insubordi- 
nation, he was almost ready to lop our heads off 
with his drawn sword, when Williamson informed 
him that he was a commissioned officer and would 
see him at the devil before he would submit to such 
uncalled-for interference. 

'Tf you are a commissioned officer," Shoemaker 
replied, "why are you here, working at a gun?" 

"Because I had not been assigned to other duty," 
was Williamson's reply, "and I chose to come back, 
for the time being, with my old battery." 

"Then I order you under arrest for your dis- 
respect to a superior officer !" said Shoemaker. 

The case was promptly reported to General Jack- 
son, and Williamson as promptly released. The 
bombastic major had little idea that among the men 
he was so uselessly reprimanding was a son of Gen- 
eral Lee, as well as Lieutenant Williamson, who 
was a nephew of Gen. Dick Garnett, who was later 
killed in Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. This epi- 
sode over, we again drove to the haystack. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 117 

These repeated advances and attacks made by 
the enemy's artillery plainly showed that they re- 
alized that our situation was a hazardous one, of 
which we, too, were fully aware, and unless Long- 
street should soon show up we felt that the whole 
of Pope's army would be upon us. While quietly 
awaiting developments, we heard the sound of a 
horse's hoofs, and, as a courier galloped up to Gen- 
eral Jackson, to announce Longstreet's approach, 
the cloud of red dust raised by his vanguard in the 
direction of Thoroughfare Gap assured us that he 
would soon be at hand. Before he reached the field, 
however, and while we were enjoying the sense of 
relief at his coming, one of the enemy's batteries 
had quietly and unobserved managed to get into 
one of the positions occupied by our battery during 
the morning. Their first volley, coming from such 
an unexpected quarter, created a great commotion. 
Instantly we galloped to their front and unlimbered 
our guns at close range. Other of our batteries 
fired a few shots, but soon ceased, all seeming in- 
tent on witnessing a duel between the two batteries 
of four guns each. Their position was the more 
favorable, as their limbers and caissons were behind 
the crest of the hill, while we were on level ground 
with ours fully exposed. Each man worked as if 
success depended on his individual exertions, while 
Captain Poague and Lieutenant Graham galloped 
back and forth among the guns, urging us to our 
best efforts. Our antagonists got our range at once. 



118 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

and, with their twelve-pound Napoleon guns, poured 
in a raking fire. One shell I noticed particularly as 
it burst, and waited a moment to observe its effects 
as the fragments tore by. One of them struck Cap- 
tain Poague's horse near the middle of the hip, tear- 
ing an ugly hole, from which there spurted a stream 
of blood the size of a man's wrist. To dismount 
before his horse fell required quick work, but the 
captain was equal to the occasion. Another shell 
robbed Henry Boteler of the seat of his trousers, 
but caused the shedding of no blood, and his narrow 
escape the shedding of no tears, although the loss 
was a serious one. Eugene Alexander, of Moore- 
field, had his thigh-bone broken and was incapaci- 
tated for service. Sergeant Henry Payne, a splen- 
did man and an accomplished scholar, was struck 
by a solid shot just below the knee and his leg left 
hanging by shreds of flesh. An hour later, when 
being lifted into an ambulance, I heard him ask if 
his leg could not be saved, but in another hour he 
was dead. 

After an hour of spirited work, our antagonists 
limbered up and hurried off, leaving us victors in 
the contest. Lieutenant Baxter McCorkle galloped 
over to the place to see what execution we had done, 
and found several dead men, as many or more dead 
horses, and one of their caissons as evidences of good 
aim ; and brought back with him a fine army-pistol 
left in the caisson. When the affair was over, I 
found myself exhausted and faint from overexer- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 119 

tion in the hot sun. Remembering that my brother 
David had brought along a canteen of vinegar, got- 
ten in the big capture of stores a few days before, 
and thinking a swallow of it would revive me, I 
went to him and asked him to get it for me. Be- 
fore I was done speaking, the world seemed to make 
a sudden revolution and turn black as I collapsed 
with it. My brother, thinking I was shot, hurried 
for the vinegar, but found the canteen, which hung 
at the rear of a caisson, entirely empty ; it, too, hav- 
ing been struck by a piece of shell, and even the 
contents of the little canteen demanded by this in- 
satiable plain, whose thirst no amount of blood 
seemed able to quench. 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE SECOND BATTLE OF MANASSAS INCIDENTS AND 

SCENES ON THE BATTLEFIELD 

These encounters were the preludes to the great 
battle for which both sides were preparing, almost 
two days having already been spent in maneuvering 
and feeling each other's lines. The afternoon, how- 
ever, passed quietly with no further collisions 
worthy of mention. The following day, Saturday, 
was full of excitement. It was the third and last 
of this protracted battle, and the last for many a 
brave soldier in both armies. 

The shifting of troops began early, our battery 
changing position several times during the forenoon. 
Neither army had buried its dead of the first day's 
battle. We held the ground on which were strewn 
the corpses of both Blue and Gray, in some places 
lying side by side. The hot August sun had parched 
the grass to a crisp, and it was frequently ignited 
by bursting shells. In this way the clothes of the 
dead were sometimes burned off, and the bodies par- 
tially roasted ! Such spectacles made little or no im- 
pression at the time, and we moved to and fro over 
the field, scarcely heeding them. 

About two o'clock we were ordered some distance 
forward, to fire on a battery posted on a low ridge 

120 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 121 

near a piece of woods. By skirting along a body of 
woods on our left, and screened by it, we came out 
in full view of this battery and on its right flank. 
My gun, being in front and the first seen by them, 
attracted their whole fire; but most of their shells 
passed over our heads and burst among the guns in 
our rear and among the trees. None of us was hurt, 
and in a few minutes all four of our guns were un- 
limbered and opened on them most vigorously. In 
five or six rounds their guns ceased firing and were 
drawn by hand from the crest of the ridge entirely 
out of view and range. 

As we stood by our guns, highly gratified with 
our prowess, General Jackson came riding up to the 
first detachment and said, "That was handsomely 
done, very handsomely done," then passed on to the 
other detachments and to each one addressed some 
complimentary remark. In half an hour we were 
again at our rendezvous, the haystack, and he at his 
headquarters, and all quiet. But this time it was 
the calm before the real storm. 

Across the open plains on which we stood, and 
some three hundred yards distant from us, was an 
extensive body of woods in which Longstreet's corps 
had quietly formed in line of battle. In front of 
this was open ground, sloping gently for one- fourth 
of a mile, and on its crest the enemy's line of battle. 
To our left another large body of woods extended 
toward our front, and concealed the movements of 
both armies from view in that direction. General 



122 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Jackson had dismounted from his horse and was 
sitting on the rail- fence, and ours and one or two 
other batteries were in bivouac close by, and all as 
calm and peaceful as if the armies were in their re- 
spective winter cjuarters, when a roar and crash of 
musketry that was almost deafening burst forth in 
the woods in our immediate front, and a shower of 
Minie-bullets whistled through the air, striking here 
and there about us. Instantly everything was astir, 
with an occasional lamentation or cry of pain from 
some wounded man. General Jackson mounted his 
horse hurriedly. The fighting soon became general 
throughout the lines, in portions of it terrific. Gen- 
eral Pope, after two days of preparation, had ad- 
vanced his lines and made the attack instead of re- 
ceiving it, as our lines were on the eve of advancing. 
A projected but uncompleted railroad, with alter- 
nating cuts and embankments, afforded a splendid 
line of defense to our infantry on the left. The most 
continued and persistent fighting was where it be- 
gan, on that portion of the line held by Jackson's old 
division. In the course of an hour the attack was 
repulsed and a counter-charge made, but, judging 
from the number of dead the enemy left on the field, 
and the rapidity of their pursuit, the Confederates 
met with but little resistance thereafter. An attack 
had been made on Longstreets's corps at the same 
time, which met with the same ill success, and was 
followed by a countercharge. I remember our 
noticing the high range of hills in front of Long- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 123 

street, completely commanding, as it did, the inter- 
vening ground, and some one remarking, while the 
charge was in progress, that it seemed impossible to 
carry it. But the reserves who occupied this high 
ground made but little resistance, and, joining those 
who had been repulsed, all fled hurriedly from the 
field. As soon as the retreat of the Federal army 
began, active participation in the battle by the ar- 
tillery ceased. We joined in the pursuit, which was 
brought to a close soon after it began by approach- 
ing night. 

In crossing a field in the pursuit, a short distance 
from our gun, I passed near a young infantryman 
lying entirely alone, with his thigh-bone broken by 
a Minie-bullet. He was in great distress of mind 
and body, and asked me most pleadingly to render 
him some assistance. If I could do nothing else, he 
begged that I should find his brother, who belonged 
to Johnston's battery, of Bedford County, Virginia. 
I told him I could not leave my gun, etc., which gave 
him little comfort ; but he told me his name, which 
was Ferguson, and where his home was. Fortu- 
nately, however, I happened on Johnston's battery 
soon after, and sent his brother to him. I heard 
nothing further of him until five years later — two 
years after the war — when I was on a visit to some 
relatives in Bedford County. As we started to 
church in Liberty one Sunday morning I recalled 
the incident and mentioned it to my aunt's family, 
and was informed that Ferguson was still alive, had 



124 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

been very recently married, and that I would prob- 
ably see him that morning at church. And sure 
enough, I was scarcely seated in church when he 
camp limping in and took a seat near me. I recog- 
nized him at once, but, fearing he had not forgotten 
w^hat he felt was cruel indifference in his desperate 
situation, did not renew our acquaintance. 

After parting with him on the battlefield and 
overtaking my gun, our route for a time was 
through the enemy's dead and wounded of the bat- 
tle which took place two days before, who had been 
lying between the two armies, exposed to the hot 
sun since that time. While taking a more direct 
route, as the battery w-as winding around an ascent, 
my attention was called to a Federal soldier of enor- 
mous size lying on the ground. His head was al- 
most as large as a half -bushel and his face a dark- 
blue color. I supposed, as a matter of course, that 
he was dead, and considered him a curiosity even as 
a dead man. But, while standing near him, wonder- 
ing at the size of the monster, he began to move, 
and turned as if about to rise to his feet. Thinking 
he might succeed, I hurried on and joined my gun. 

Here we had a good opportunity of observing the 
marked and striking difference between the Fed- 
erals and Confederates who remained unburied for 
tw^enty-four hours or more after being killed. While 
the Confederates underwent no perceptible change 
in color or otherwise, the Federals, on the contrary, 
became much swollen and discolored. This was, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 125 

of course, attributable to the difference in their food 
and drink. And while some Confederates, no doubt 
for want of sufficient food, fell by the wayside on 
the march, the great majority of them, owing to 
their simple fare, could endure, and unquestionably 
did endure, more hardship than the Federals who 
were overfed and accustomed to regular and full 
rations. 

Our following in the pursuit was a mere form, 
as the enemy had been driven by our infantry from 
all of their formidable positions, and night, as usual 
in such cases, had put a stop to further pursuit. As 
we countermarched, to find a suitable camping- 
ground, great care had to be taken in the darkness 
to avoid driving over the enemy's wounded who lay 
along the course of our route. I remember one of 
them especially, in a narrow place, was very grate- 
ful to me for standing near him and cautioning the 
drivers as they passed by. 

On the next day, Sunday, August 31, after three 
days of occupation such as I have described, we were 
not averse to a Sabbath-day's rest, which also gave 
us the opportunity of reviewing at leisure the events 
and results of our experience, and going over other 
portions of the battlefield. Looking to the right 
front, spread out in full view, was the sloping 
ground over which Longstreet had fought and 
driven his antagonists. The extensive area pre- 
sented the appearance of an immense flower-garden, 
the prevailing blue thickly dotted with red, the color 



126 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

of the Federal Zouave uniform. In front of the 
railroad-cut, and not more than fifty yards from it, 
where Jackson's old division had been attacked, at 
least three-fourths of the men who made the charge 
had been killed, and lay in line as they had fallen. I 
looked over and examined the ground carefully, and 
was confident that I could have walked a quarter of 
a mile in almost a straight line on their dead bodies 
without putting a foot on the ground. By such evi- 
dences as this, our minds had been entirely disabused 
of the idea that "the Northerners would not fight." 

It was near this scene of carnage that I also saw 
two hundred or more citizens whose credulity un- 
der General Pope's assurance had brought them from 
Washington and other cities to see "Jackson bag- 
ged," and enjoy a gala day. They were now un- 
der guard, as prisoners, and responded promptly to 
the authority of those who marched them by at a 
lively pace. This sample of gentlemen of leisure 
gave an idea of the material the North had in re- 
serve, to be utilized, if need be, in future. 

During the three days — 28th, 29th and 30th — 
the official reports give the Federal losses as 20.000, 
the Confederates as 10.000. On each of these days 
our town of Lexington had lost one of her most 
promising young men — Henry R. Payne, of our 
battery; Hugh White, captain of the College com- 
pany, and Willie Preston, a private in the same com- 
pany, a noble young fellow who had had the forti- 
tude and moral courage, at the request of President 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 127 

Juiikin, to pull down the palmetto flag hoisted by 
the students over Washington College. We re- 
mained about Manassas only long enough for the 
dead to be buried. 

The suffering of the wounded for want of atten- 
tion, bad enough at best, in this case must have been 
extraordinary. The aggregate of wounded of the 
two armies. Confederate and Federal, exceeded 
15,000 in number. The surrounding country had 
been devastated by war until it was practically a 
desert. The railroad bridges and tracks, extending 
from the Rapidan in Orange County to Fairfax, a 
distance of fifty miles, had been destroyed, so that 
it would require several weeks before the Confed- 
erates could reach the hospitals in Richmond and 
Charlottesville, and then in box-cars, over rough, 
improvised roads. Those of the Federal army were 
cut off in like manner from their hospitals in the 
North. In addition to all this, the surgeons and 
ambulances and their corps continued with their re- 
spective commands, to meet emergencies of like na- 
ture, to be repeated before the September moon had 
begun to wane. 



CHAPTER XV 

BATTLE OF CHANTILLY LEESBURG CROSSING THE 

POTOMAC 

After such prolonged marching and such a vic- 
tory as the second Manassas we hoped for a rest so 
well earned ; at any rate, we imagined that there was 
no enemy near inclined to give battle; but on Mon- 
day, September 1, we were again on the march, 
which continued far into the night, it being near 
daylight when we went into park. The latter part 
of the way I rode on a caisson, seated by a com- 
panion, and so entirely overcome with sleep as to be 
unable to keep my eyes open five seconds at a time, 
nodding from side to side over the wheels. My 
companion would rouse me and tell me of my dan- 
ger, but shame, danger, and all were of no avail till, 
waking for the fortieth time, I found my hat was 
gone. I jumped down, went back a short distance, 
and found my old drab fur, of Lexington make, flat 
in the road, having been trampled over by several 
teams and gun-wheels. 

After a halt of a few hours we were again on the 
move, and soon found ourselves in Fairfax County. 
About noon we passed by "Chantilly," the home of 
my messmate, Wash. Stuart, whom we had left des- 
perately wounded at Winchester. The place, a beau- 

128 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 129 

tiful country residence, was deserted now. Stuart, 
though, was somewhere in the neighborhood, a 
paroled prisoner, and on his return to us the follow- 
ing winter told us of the efforts he had made to find 
us near "The Plains" with a feast of wines, etc., for 
our refreshment. Two or three miles from Chan- 
tilly short and frequent halts and cautious advances 
warned us that there were breakers ahead. Then 
the pop, pop, pop! of a skirmish-line along the edge 
of a wood in our front brought back again those 
nervous pulsations in the region of the stomach 
which no amount of philosophy or will-power seemed 
able to repress. 

The battery kept straight on in the road and 
through the woods, the enemy's skirmishers having 
fallen back to our right. We halted where the road 
began to descend, v/aiting until a place suitable for 
action could be found. Up to this time there was 
only infantry skirmishing, not a cannon having been 
fired on either side, when, as we stood quietly by our 
guns, a Federal shell burst in our midst with a tre- 
mendous crash. None of us heard the report of the 
gun that sent it, or knew from what direction it 
came, but the accuracy with which we had been lo- 
cated in the dense forest was not comforting. 

Soon after this, our attention was attracted by 
the approach, along the road in our front, of ten or 
twelve horsemen, riding leisurely toward us, one of 
whom bore a banner of unusually large size. As 
they passed, the most conspicuous figure in the party 



130 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

was a Federal officer clad in brilliant uniform and 
mounted on a superb bay horse, who with several 
other prisoners was being escorted by a squad of 
cavalry. The banner was the flag of New York 
State, with the field of white-satin emblazoned with 
the coat-of-arms of the Empire State and all elabor- 
ately decorated with flowing cords and tassels. The 
officer I afterwards learned had been at West Point 
with Gen. Fitz Lee, and asked that his beautiful 
animal be given to this former friend — and the 
horse became the mount of Lieut. John Lee, a 
brother of the General. 

After remaining here for an hour, and our officers 
finding no open ground for battle, and no enemy in 
sight except some videttes who saluted us with an 
occasional Minie-ball, we countermarched one-half 
mile in a drenching rain and went into park. Mean- 
while, a brisk musketry fire had extended along the 
infantry lines, and soon after halting two of our 
battery horses fell dead, struck by their stray bul- 
lets. It was during this contest, in the pouring rain, 
that General Jackson, on receiving a message from 
a brigadier that his ammunition was wet, and he 
feared he could not hold on, replied, "Tell him to 
hold his ground. If his guns will not go off, neither 
will the enemy's." 

Before the firing ceased, which continued through 
the twilight, Major-General Kearney, mistaking a 
line of Confederates for his own men, rode almost 
into their midst before discovering his error. He 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 131 

wheeled his horse, and, as he dashed off, leaning for- 
ward on the horse's neck, received a bullet in his 
back and fell dead upon the field. Next day his 
body was returned to his friends under flag of truce. 
From Chantilly, or Ox Hill, as this battle was 
called by Confederates and Federals, respectively, 
we reached Leesburg, the county-seat, by a march of 
thirty miles due north into Loudoun County, and a 
mile or two east of this attractive town went into 
bivouac about sunset in a beautiful grassy meadow 
which afforded what seemed to us a downy couch, 
and to the horses luxuriant pasturage, recalling 
former and better days. Next morning, while lying 
sound asleep wrapped in my blanket, I became pain- 
fully conscious of a crushing weight on my foot. 
Opening my eyes, there stood a horse almost over 
me, quietly cropping the grass, with one forefoot 
planted on one of mine. Having no weapon at hand, 
I motioned and yelled at him most lustily. Being 
the last foot put down it was the last taken up, and, 
turning completely around, he twisted the blanket 
around the calks of his shoe, stripped it entirely off 
of me, and dragged it some yards away. There be- 
ing no stones nor other missiles available, I could 
only indulge in a storm of impotent rage, but, not- 
withstanding the trampling I had undergone, was 
able "to keep up with the procession." 

The morning was a beautiful one, the sun having 
just risen in a clear sky above the mists overhang- 
ing and marking the course of the Potomac a mile 



132 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

to the east, and lighting up the peaks of the Blue 
Ridge to the west. The country and scenery were 
not unhke, and equal to the prettiest parts of the 
Valley. Circling and hovering overhead, calling 
and answering one another in their peculiarly plain- 
tive notes, as if disturbed by our presence, were the 
gray plover, a bird I had never before seen. The 
environment was strikingly peaceful and beautiful, 
and suggestive of the wish that the Federals, whom 
we had literally whipped out of their boots and 
several other articles of attire, and who had now 
returned to their own country, would remain there, 
and allow us the same privilege. 

But General Lee took a different view of it, and 
felt that the desired object would be more effectu- 
ally accomplished by transferring the war into their 
own territory. So before noon we were again 
"trekking," and that, too, straight for the Potomac. 
Orders had again been issued forbidding the can- 
noneers riding on the caissons anl limbers ; but, in 
crossing the Potomac that day, as the horses were 
in better shape and the ford smooth, Captain 
Poague gave us permission to mount and ride over 
dry-shod. For which breach of discipline he was 
put under arrest and for several days rode — solemn 
and downcast — in rear of the battery, with the firm 
resolve, no doubt, that it was the last act of charity 
of which he would be guilty during the war. Lieu- 
tenant Graham was in command. 



CHAPTER XVI 

MARYLAND MY DAY IN FREDERICK CITY 

We were now in Maryland, September 5, 1862. 
From accounts generally, and more particularly 
from the opinions expressed by the Maryland mem- 
bers of our battery, we were in eager anticipation of 
seeing the whole population rise to receive us with 
open arms, and our depleted ranks swelled by the 
younger men, impatient for the opportunity to help 
to achieve Southern independence. The prospect of 
what was in store for us when we reached Balti- 
more, as pictured by our boys from that city, filled 
our minds with such eager yearnings that our impa- 
tience to rush in could scarcely be restrained. On 
the evening of our arrival within the borders of the 
State, with several companions, I took supper at the 
house of a Southern sympathizer, who said much 
to encourage our faith. 

In a day of two we were approaching Frederick 
City. Strict orders had been issued against forag- 
ing or leaving the ranks, but Steve Dandridge and 
I determined to take the bit in our teeth and en- 
deavor to do the town for one day at all hazards. 
Knowing the officers and provost-guards would be 
on the alert and hard to evade after the town was 
reached, we concluded, in order to be safe from their 
observation, to accomplish that part of our plan be- 

133 



134 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

forehand. A field of corn half a mile from the city 
afforded us good cover till well out of sight. Then, 
by "taking judicious advantage of the shrubbery," 
we made our way into a quiet part of the city, and, 
after scaling a few picket fences, came out into a 
cross-street remote from the line of march. Steve 
was the fortunate possessor of a few dollars in 
greenbacks, my holdings being a like sum in Con- 
federate scrip. 

As previously mentioned, our extra baggage — and 
extra meant all save that worn on our backs — had 
been left weeks before near the banks of the Rapi- 
dan, so that our apparel was now in sad plight. 
Dandridge had lost his little cadet-cap while on a 
night march, and supplied its place from the head 
of a dead Federal at Manassas, his hair still pro- 
truding freely, and burnt as "brown as a pretzel 
bun." The style of my hat was on the other ex- 
treme. It had been made to order by a substantial 
hatter in Lexington, enlisted, and served through 
the war on one head after another. It was a tall, 
drab-colored fur of conical shape, with several rows 
of holes punched around the crown for ventilation. 
I still wore the lead-colored knit jacket given me by 
"Buck" Ranson during the Banks campaign. This 
garment was adorned with a blue stripe near the 
edges, buttoned close at the throat, and came down 
well over the hips, fitting after the manner of a 
shirt. My trousers, issued by the Confederate 
Quartermaster Department, were fashioned in North 




Edward A. Moore 

(March. 1862) 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 135 

Carolina, of a reddish-brown or brick-dust color, 
part wool and part cotton, elaborate in dimensions 
about the hips and seat, but tapering and small at 
the feet, in imitation, as to shape and color, of those 
worn by Billy Wilson's Zouaves at first Manassas. 
This is an accurate description of our apparel. 
Among our fellow-soldiers it attracted no especial 
attention, as there were many others equally as 
striking. Very naturally, we were at first eyed with 
suspicion by the people we met, and when we in- 
quired for a place to get refreshments were directed 
"down yonder" ; in fact anywhere else than where 

we were. 

We soon found a nice little family grocery-store ; 
that is, one kept by a family, including among others 
two very comely young women. Here we found 
O'Rourke, an Irishman of our company, who had a 
talent for nosing out good things— both solids and 
liquids. We were served with a good repast of na- 
tive wine, bread, butter, etc. ; and, in case we should 
not have leisure for milder beverages, had a canteen 
filled with whiskey. 

While enjoying our agreeable cheer, a man about 
thirty years of age came in, he said, to make our 
acquaintance. He was quite a sharp-looking fellow, 
with small, keen black eyes, a "glib" tongue, and told 
us that he was an out-and-out rebel, proud to meet 
us and ready to oblige. Steve forthwith proposed, 
as evidence of his good-will, an exchange of head- 
gear. He dilated eloquently on the historic value of 



136 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

his own cap, and, while it did not entirely suit him, 
exposed as he was to the weather, it would be be- 
coming to a city gentleman, besides reviving the 
most pleasant associations as a souvenir ; and, more- 
over, the hat the stranger wore was most suitable for 
a soldier and would do good service to the cause. At 
length the exchange was made and, Steve having 
donned the nice black hat, we took our leave. We 
had scarcely walked a square when our attention 
was attracted by the sound of rapid footsteps ap- 
proaching from the rear, and, turning, we saw our 
new and interesting acquaintance coming at a run. 
As he passed us, with a high bound he seized the 
hat from Dandridge's head, threw the cap on the 
pavement, and disappeared like a flash around the 
corner. 

While seated in a confectionery, enjoying a water- 
melon we had purchased at a nearby fruitstand, a 
gentleman came in and insisted on presenting us with 
a bottle of blackberry brandy, which he recom- 
mended as an excellent tonic. We declined his offer, 
a little suspicious as to the nature of the liquor, but, 
as he accepted our invitation to partake of our 
melon, we compromised by joining him in a drink 
of the brandy, and found it so palatable we regretted 
not having accepted his proposed present of the 
whole bottle. Here, with boyish delight, we laid in 
a supply of confectionery. 

Passing along the street soon after this, we were 
accosted by a venerable-looking gentleman, who 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 137 

stopped us and inquired, very modestly, if there was 
any way in which he could be of service to us. We 
could suggest none. He then intimated that we 
might be a little short of current funds. We could 
not deny that our funds were somewhat short and 
not very current. He offered us some greenbacks, 
of which we accepted a dollar, asking him to try one 
of our Confederate dollars instead, which he declined 
to do, but expressed the hope, in a very delicate way, 
that all of the Confederate soldiers would so con- 
duct themselves as to show the Marylanders of 
Union proclivities what gentlemen they really were. 
Our next experience was rather trying, for me at 
least, as events will show. Dandridge remembered 
that he had a lady friend in the city, and proposed 
that we hunt her up and pay a call. We discussed 
the subject, I thinking such assurance out of the 
question; but he said he knew her "like a book," that 
she had visited at "The Bower," his family home; 
would excuse our appearance, and be charmed to 
see us. He knew that, when in Frederick City, she 
visited at a Mr. Webster's, whose handsome resi- 
dence we succeeded in locating, and were soon at the 
door. The bell was answered by a tall, dignified- 
looking gentleman of about forty- five years, with a 
full brown beard, who, standing in the half-open 
door, looked inquiringly as to the object of our 

visit. Dandridge asked if Miss was in. He 

replied she was, and waited as if inclined to ask, 
"What business is that of yours?" Dandridge cut 



138 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

the interview short by saying, '*My name is Dand- 
ridge, and I wish to see her. Come in, Ned." We 
walked in, and were asked to be seated in the hall. 

Presently Miss appeared. She seemed at first, 

and doubtless was, somewhat surprised. Dandridge, 
though, was perfectly natural and at ease, intro- 
duced me as if I were a general, and rattled away 
in his usual style. She informed him that another 
of his lady friends was in the house, and left us to 
bring her in. To me the situation was not of the 
kind I had been seeking and, rising, I said, "Steven, 
if you have time before the ladies return to manu- 
facture a satisfactory explanation of my absence, do 
so; otherwise, treat the matter as if you had come 
alone," and I vanished. Dandridge was invited to 
remain to dinner, was sumptuously feasted and en- 
tertained by the host, and to my astonishment 
brought me a special invitation to return with him 
the following day and dine with the household. 
Other engagements, however, prevented my going. 
About four p. M. I met Joe Shaner, of Lexington, 
and of our battery, on the street. His gun having 
met with some mishap the day previous, had fallen 
behind, and had now just come up and passed 
through the town. Joe was wo fully dejected, and de- 
plored missing, as one would have imagined, the 
opportunity of his life — a day in such a city, teem- 
ing with all that was good. But little time now re- 
mained before evening roll-call, when each must 
give an account of himself. He was hungry, tired, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 139 

and warm, and I felt it my duty to comfort him as 
far as possible. I asked him how he would like a 
taste of whiskey. "It's just what I need," was his 
quiet reply, and before I had time to get the strap 
off of my shoulder he dropped on one knee on the 
curb-stone and had my canteen upside down to his 
mouth, obHvious of those passing by. He had no 
money, but, being a messmate, I invested the rem- 
nant of my change for his benefit, but found it 
necessary to include a weighty watermelon, to make 
out his load to camp. 

The next acquaintance I met was George Bedin- 
ger, whom I found, clad a la mode, standing in a 
hotel-door with an expression of calm satisfaction 
on his face. As I came up to him, carrying my re- 
cent purchases tied in a bandana handkerchief, and 
stood before him, he scanned me from head to foot, 
said not a word, but fell back with a roar of laugh- 
ter. Gay, brilliant Bedinger, whose presence im- 
parted an electric touch to those around him ; I shall 
ne'er see his like again! 

The sun was now setting; camp was two miles 
away. Thither I set out, cheered by the assurance 
that, whatever punishment befell, I had had a day. 
Arriving there, my apprehensions were relieved, 
possibly because offenses of the kind were too num- 
erous to be handled conveniently. About dusk that 
evening a free fight between the members of our 
company and those of Raine's battery, of Lynch- 
burg, was with difficulty prevented by the officers of 



142 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Heights, the extreme north end of the Blue Ridge 
in Virginia, at the base of which flowed the Shenan- 
doah River, and now held by onr artillery, as 
were also Maryland Heights, across the Potomac, 
while various lines of infantry lay concealed along 
the banks of both rivers and intervening valleys, 
completely enveloping the Federal position. 

The morning was still and clear, giving us a full 
view of the lines of the lofty mountains. Simul- 
taneously the great circle of artillery opened, all fir- 
ing to a common center, while the clouds of smoke, 
rolling up from the tops of the various mountains, 
and the thunder of the guns reverberating among 
them, gave the idea of so many volcanoes. 

The contrast between the conditions and the 
scene presented as I viewed the surroundings five 
years later, during Christmas, 1867, is too striking 
to be forgotten. 

On the face of the country, mountain, field and 
forest lay a deep snow and on this a sleet had fallen, 
encasing every tree, shrub and fence in a glassy 
coating; and as I sped along the highway behind 
jingling sleigh-bells, seated by a young lady uncom- 
mon fair, the morning sun blazing through the 
mountain gorge cut by the rivers, and reflected from 
myriads of sparkling icy prisms, made a scene of 
dazzling beauty. 

The fire of the Federals in the unequal contest 
made no perceptible impression, not even on the lines 
of infantry which had begun closing in from all 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 143 

sides for the final charge. Before they (the in- 
fantry) were within musket range, a horseman bear- 
ing a large piece of tent-cloth swept along the crest 
of Bolivar Heights. The doubtful color of the flag 
displayed prevented an immediate cessation of the 
Confederate fire. It proved to be in token of sur- 
render, but after its appearance I saw a shot from 
our second piece strike so near a horseman riding 
at speed along the heights as to envelop horse and 
rider in its smoke and dust. 

The whole affair, devoid, as it was, of ordinary 
danger, was one of thrilHng interest. Our com- 
manding position gave us a full view of the exten- 
sive and varied terrain, a thing of rare occurrence 
to other than general officers. In addition to this, 
the fact that we had defeated our antagonists, usu- 
ally in superior numbers, in battle after battle 
throughout a long campaign, tended to confirm us 
in the opinion that we could down them every time, 
and that the contest must, at no distant day, end in 
our favor. The number of troops surrendered was 
11,500, with seventy-three pieces of artillery, suffi- 
cient to supply our batteries for some time. It was 
comparatively a bloodless victory, though the com- 
manding officer, Colonel Miles, was killed at the last 
moment, and the terms of surrender arranged by 
General White, who had fallen back to this place 
from Martinsburg. I saw their artillery as it was 
driven out and turned over to us, supplied with most 
excellent equipments, and horses sleek and fat. 



144 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

As some time would be consumed in handling the 
prisoners and the transfer of arms and stores, I set 
out in the afternoon for Charlestown, and, as usual, 
went to my friends — the Ransons. After a refresh- 
ing bath I donned a clean white shirt and a pair of 
light-checked trousers, and was ready to discuss the 
events of the campaign with General Lindsay 
Walker, who was also a guest of the house. About 
nine o'clock at night I was joined by Dandridge, 
who had been met in the town by his mother and 
sisters from "The Bower," and, with light hearts 
and full haversacks, we set out for camp seven miles 
distant. 

The Ranson family has several times been men- 
tioned in these pages, as their home was a place 
where, when hungry, I was fed and, when naked, 
clothed. The oldest son, Tom, now a lawyer in 
Staunton, Virginia, was my schoolfellow and class- 
mate at college when a boy in Lexington. After 
receiving a wound at Cross Keys in June, 1862, 
when a lieutenant in the Fifty-second Virginia Regi- 
ment, which incapacitated him for further service in 
the infantry, he enlisted in the cavalry. By reason 
of his familiarity with the topography of the coun- 
try about Harper's Ferry and the lower portion of 
the Valley, together with his indomitable pluck and 
steady ner^'e, he was often employed as a scout, and 
in this capacity frequently visited his home near 
Charlestown. The residence, situated, as it was, a 
quarter of a mile from and overlooking the town. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 145 

^\•as approached by a wide avenue leading by a gen- 
tle ascent to the front gate, which stood about sev- 
enty-five yards from the house. Owing to the com- 
manding view thus afforded, it was a favorite place 
for a Federal picket-post, so that, while a dangerous 
place for a rebel soldier to venture, it offered many 
facilities for obtaining valuable information. On one 
occasion young Ranson spent three days in this home 
while the Federal pickets were on constant watch 
day and night at the front gate opening into the 
lawn, and went in and out of the house at their con- 
venience. Moreover, the negro servants of the fam- 
ily knew of "Marse Tom's" presence, but looked and 
acted negro ignorance to perfection when catechised. 
When standing at a front window one afternoon 
Tom saw a lady friend of the family approaching 
the house from the town. On reaching the front 
gate she, of course, was stopped by the sentinel and, 
after a parley, refused admittance and required to 
retrace her steps. Two hours later, much to their 
surprise, she appeared in the family-room and sank 
down completely exhausted, having entered the 
house by a rear door, which she had reached after 
making a detour of a mile or more to escape the 
vigilance of the videttes in front. After recovering 
breath she unburdened herself of her load, which 
consisted, in part, of a pair of long-legged cavalry 
boots, late issues of Northern newspapers, etc. This 
load she had carried suspended from her waist and 
concealed under the large hoop-skirt then worn by 



146 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ladies. The newspapers and information of large 
bodies of Federal troops being hurried by rail past 
Harper's Ferry were delivered by young Ranson to 
General Lee on the following day. 

Throughout the preceding day, while occupied 
about Harper's Ferry, we heard heavy cannonading 
across the Maryland border, apparently eight or ten 
miles from us. This had increased in volume, and 
by sunset had evidently advanced toward us, as the 
sound of musketry was distinctly heard. It proved 
to be an attack on Gen. D. H. Hill's division and 
other commands occupying the South Mountain 
passes. After stubborn resistance the Confederates 
had been forced to yield. So on reaching camp to- 
ward midnight, after our visit to Charlestown, we 
were not surprised to find the battery preparing to 
move. With scarcely an hour's delay we were again 
on the march, heading for Maryland. We arrived 
at Shepherdstown before dawn, and while halting 
in the road for half an hour Henry Lewis, driver at 
my gun, overcome with sleep, fell sprawling from 
his horse, rousing those about him from a similar 
condition. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

INTO MARYLAND AGAIN BATTLE OF SHARPSBURG 

WOUNDED RETURN TO WINCHESTER HOME 

Half a mile below the town we forded the Poto- 
mac for the third time, and by the middle of the 
afternoon were on the ontskirts of Sharpsburg, fonr 
miles from the river. On the opposite, or east, side 
of this village are Antietam creek and valley; a mile 
from the creek and parallel to it was a heavily 
wooded mountain. It is not my design to attempt 
a description of the battle which was fought on this 
ground on the following day, generally conceded to 
have been the fiercest of the war, but only to men- 
tion what came under my observation or was especi- 
ally associated therewith. 

The unusual activity and aggressiveness on the 
part of General McClellan, as evidenced by the fierce 
attacks made on our forces in the South Mountain 
passes for the two preceding days, were explained by 
his being in possession of General Lee's order to his 
subordinates. This order, or a copy of it, which 
contained directions for the movements of the va- 
rious portions of the Confederate army, including 
the investment of Harper's Ferry, had been lost or 
disposed of by some one in Frederick City, and when 
this place was occupied, on September 13, by the 
Federals, was delivered to General McClellan. Thus 

147 



148 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

acquainted with the location and movements of each 
division of the Confederate army, which was scat- 
tered over a wide territory and separated by a river 
and rugged mountains, it seems surprising that with 
his army of 90,000 men he should not have practi- 
cally destroyed General Lee's army of 40,000. Gen- 
eral Lee, however, was informed early on the morn- 
ing of the fourteenth that a copy of his order had 
fallen into the hands of General McClellan. 

This was done by a citizen of Frederick City w'ho 
happened to be present when General McClellan re- 
ceived it and heard him express satisfaction over 
such a stroke of luck. This citizen at once went to 
work to inform General Lee, which task he accom- 
plished by passing through the Federal lines during 
the niglit and informing General Stuart, who forth- 
with communicated it to General Lee, who lost no 
time in moving heaven and earth — the former by 
prayer, we assume ; the latter by his authority over 
men — to meet the emergency. Results proved how 
wonderfully he succeeded. 

As we moved past the town we saw neither any 
of our troops nor those of the enemy, and heard no 
firing. Altliough there was complete absence of the 
usual prelude to battle, still the apprehension came 
over us that something serious in that line was not 
very remote, either in time or place. The command- 
ers of both armies were conscious of the importance 
of the impending contest, which perhaps explains the 
extreme caution they exercised. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 149 

After passing through a piece of woodland, we 
entered a small field and came in distinct view of 
two blue lines of battle, drawn up one in rear of the 
other. On these we at once opened fire, and were 
answered very promptly by a Federal battery in the 
same quarter. While thus engaged we had a visi- 
tor in the person of a young fellow who had just 
been commissioned a lieutenant, having previously 
been an orderly at brigade headquarters. Feeling 
his newly acquired importance, he spurred his horse 
around among the guns, calling out, "Let 'em have 
it !" and the like, until, seeing our disgust at his im- 
pertinent encouragement, and that we preferred a 
chance to let him have it, he departed. Our next 
visitor came in a different guise, and by a hint of 
another kind was quickly disposed of. He, a man 
of unusually large size, with sword dangling at his 
side, came bounding from our right at a full run. 
A large log a few steps in our rear was his goal 
as a place of safety, and over it he leaped and was 
instantly concealed behind it. He had scant time 
to adjust himself before the log was struck a crash- 
ing blow by a solid shot. He reappeared as part of 
the upheaval; but, regaining his feet, broke for the 
woods with the speed of a quarter-horse, and with a 
greater confidence in distance than in logs. 

It was now dark, and our range had been ac- 
curately gotten. After each discharge of our op- 
ponent's guns, what appeared to be a harmless 
spark of fire, immovable as a star, repeatedly de- 



150 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ceived us. It was the burning fuse in the head of 
the shell which, coming straight toward us, seemed 
stationary until the shell shot by or burst. Four 
young mules drawing our battery-forge were 
stampeded by these shells and ran off through the 
woods, thus affording Pleasants, our blacksmith, 
entertainment for the rest of the night. 

Firing ceased on both sides at about eight o'clock, 
and we passed through the woods to our left and 
went into park on the opposite side. Still feeling 
the comfort of my clean clothes, I enjoyed a quiet 
night's rest on the top of a caisson, little heeding 
the gentle rain which fell on my face. Our bivouac 
was immediately by the "Straw-stacks," which 
have been so generally referred to as landmarks in 
this battle, and which were located in the open 
ground near the forest which extended to the Dunk- 
ard church. About seven o'clock next morning, 
while standing with horses hitched and awaiting 
orders, no engagement so far having taken place 
near us, a shell of great size burst with a terrific 
report. One fragment of it mortally wounded Sam 
Moore, a driver of my gun, while another piece cut 
off the forefoot of one of the horses in the team. 
We soon transferred his harness to another horse 
which we hitched in his stead and, as we went off 
at a trot, the crippled horse took his place close by 
where he was accustomed to work, and kept along- 
side on three legs until his suffering was relieved 
by a bullet in the brain. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON LSI 

We had moved, to get out of range of missiles, 
but the place to which we had just come was not an 
improvement. While standing with the gun in 
front turned in file at right angles to those follow- 
ing, a twenty-pound shell swept by the six drivers 
and their teams in the rear, just grazing them, then 
striking the ground, ricocheted almost between the 
forward driver and his saddle as he threw himself 
forward on the horse's neck. I mention this in con- 
trast with an occurrence later in the day, when one 
shell killed or wounded all of the six horses in a 
team, together with their three drivers. 

Fighting along the line of four miles had become 
general — done on our side chiefly by infantry. Jack- 
son's corps occupied the left with a thin line of 
men, and from it there was already a stream of 
stragglers. Jackson, while sitting nearby on his 
horse, watching the battle, was approached by a lad 
of about thirteen years, who for some time had been 
one of his orderlies. He began talking in a very 
animated manner, pointing the while to different 
parts of the field. Jackson kept his eyes on the 
ground, but gave close attention to what was said. 
The boy was Charles Randolph, and soon after this 
became a cadet at the Virginia Military Institute, and 
at the battle of New Market was left on the field 
for dead. Fourteen years after the war, while visit- 
ing in a neighboring county, I was introduced to a 
Reverend Mr. Randolph, and, seeing the resem- 
blance to the soldier-boy, I asked him about Sharps- 



152 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

burg, recalling the incident, and found he was the 
lad. 

The straggling already mentioned continually in- 
creased, and seemed to give General Jackson great 
concern. He endeavored, with the aid of his staff 
officers who were present and the members of our 
company, to stop the men and turn them back, but 
without the least effect ; claiming, as they did, the 
want of ammunition and the usual excuses. The 
marvel was, how those remaining in line could have 
withstood the tremendous odds against them; but, 
from accounts, the enemy suffered the same experi- 
ence, and in a greater degree. Up to this time, with 
the exception of a return of our battery to the Dunk- 
ard church, where we had fought the evening be- 
fore, we had done nothing. At about ten o'clock 
the indications were that if reinforcements could 
not be promptly had serious consequences would 
follow. But just after our return from the church 
to General Jackson's place of observation we saw a 
long column of troops approaching from the right. 
This was McLaw's division of Longstreet's corps, 
which had just reached the field. Their coming- 
was most opportune, and but a short time elapsed 
before the comparative quiet was interrupted — first 
by volleys, followed by a continuous roar of battle. 

Our battery was now ordered to the left of our 
line, and on the way thither joined Raine's battery, 
of Lynchburg, and a battery of Louisianians — eleven 
guns in all. Besides the ordinary number of guns 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 153 

accompanying infantry, we had to contend with 
about thirty 32-pounders on the high ground in the 
rear and entirely commanding that part of the field. 
Li view of the superior odds against us, our orders 
were to hold our positions as long as possible, then 
to move to our left and occupy new ones. Why 
such instructions were given was soon explained, as 
the ground over which we passed, and where we 
stopped to fire, was strewn with the dead horses and 
the wrecks of guns and caissons of the batteries 
which had preceded us. By the practice thus 
afforded, the Federal batteries had gotten a perfect 
range, and by the time our guns were unlimbered 
we were enveloped in the smoke and dust of burst- 
ing shells, and the air was alive with flying iron. At 
most of the positions we occupied on this move it 
was the exception when splinters and pieces of 
broken rails were not flying from the fences which 
stood in our front, hurled by shot and shell. 

Working in the lead of one of the Louisiana 
battery teams was a horse that frequently attracted 
my admiration. A rich blood-bay in color, with 
flowing black mane and tail, as he swept around in 
the various changes with wide, glowing nostrils and 
flecked with foam, in my eyes he came well up to 
the description of the war-horse whose "neck was 
clothed with thunder." 

Moving as we had been doing, toward the left 
of our line, we passed beyond that portion held by 
regular infantry commands into what was defended 



154 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

by a mere show of force when scarcely any existed. 
In charge of it was Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, who 
demonstrated on this occasion his ability to accom- 
plish what it would seem impossible for one man to 
do. With a few skeleton regiments supplied with 
numerous flags which he posted to show over the 
crests of the ridges in our rear, as if there were 
men in proportion, he himself took command of a 
line of sharpshooters in our front. This skirmish- 
line was composed of stragglers he had gathered 
up, and whom he had transformed from a lot of 
shirkers into a band of heroes. With black plume 
floating, cheering and singing, back and forth along 
the line he swept. 

The Federals confronting us in the three blue 
lines could not have been less than 8,000 men, who, 
with their powerful artillery, should have utterly 
overwhelmed the scant numbers handled by Stuart. 
As the blue lines would start forward, calling to our 
artillery to pour in the shells again, he would urge 
on his sharpshooters to meet them half-way. The 
failure of a strong force of Federals to advance 
farther is explained, no doubt, by the fact that two 
of their army corps and one division had suffered 
terribly a short time before near the same ground. 

Colonel Allan states, in his "Army of Northern 
Virginia, 1862," page 409, ''Of Hooker's and Mans- 
field's corps, and of Sedgwick's division, was noth- 
ing left available for further operations" ; and Gen- 
eral Palfrey, the Northern historian, says, "In less 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 155 

time than it takes to tell it, the ground was strewn 
with the bodies of the dead and wounded, while the 
unwounded were moving off rapidly to the north." 
(Palfrey, "Antietam and Fredericksburg," page 
87.) 

While engaged in one of these artillery duels a 
thirty-two-pound shot tore by the gun and struck 
close by Henry Rader, a driver, who was lying on 
the ground, holding the lead-horses at the limber. 
The shell tore a trench alongside of him, and hoisted 
him horizontally from the ground. As he stag- 
gered off, dazed by the shock, the horses swung 
around to run, when young R. E. Lee, Jr., with 
bare arms and face begrimed with powder, made 
a dash from the gun, seized the bridle of each of the 
leaders at the mouth, and brought them back into 
position before the dust had cleared away. 

In the constant changes from knoll to knoll, in 
accordance with orders to "move when the fire be- 
came too hot," some of the batteries with us with- 
drew, perhaps prematurely. In this way the Rock- 
bridge guns were left to receive the whole of the 
enemy's fire. In just such a situation as this, it not 
being to our liking, I asked Lieutenant Graham if 
we should pull out when the others did. Before he 
could answer the question a shell burst at our gun, 
from which an iron ball an inch in diameter struck 
me on the right thigh-joint, tearing and carrying 
the clothes in to the bone. I fell, paralyzed with 
excruciating pain. Graham rode off, thinking I was 



156 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

killed, as he afterward told me. The pain soon sub- 
sided, and I was at first content to lie still ; but, see- 
ing the grass and earth around constantly torn up, 
and sometimes thrown on me, I made fruitless 
efforts to move. The strict orders against assisting 
the wounded prevented my being carried off until 
the firing had ceased, when I was taken back about 
fifty yards and my wound examined by two sur- 
geons from the skeleton regiments, who treated me 
with the utmost kindness, thinking, perhaps, from 
my clean white shirt, that I was an officer. An hour 
later my gun came by, and I was put on a caisson 
and hauled around for an hour or two more. 

It was about this time that what was left of the 
battery was seen by General Lee, and the interview 
between him and his son took place. To give an 
idea of the condition of the battery, I quote from 
"Recollections and Letters of General Lee," by 
R. E. Lee, Jr., page 77 : 

"As one of the Army of Northern Virginia I 
occasionally saw the Commander-in-Chief, or passed 
the headquarters close enough to recognize him and 
mem1)ers of his staff'; but a private soldier in Jack- 
son's corps did not have much time during that cam- 
paign for visiting, and until the battle of Sharps- 
burg I had no opportunity of speaking to him. On 
that occasion our battery had been severely handled, 
losing many men and horses. Having three guns 
disabled, we were ordered to withdraw and, while 
moving back, we passed General Lee and several of 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 157 

his staff grouped on a little knoll near the road. 
Having no definite orders where to go, our captain, 
seeing the commanding General, halted us and rode 
over to get some instructions. Some others and my- 
self went along to see and hear. General Lee was 
dismounted with some of his staff around him, a 
courier holding his horse. Captain Poague, com- 
manding our battery, the Rockbridge Artillery, sa- 
luted, reported our condition, and asked for instruc- 
tions. The General listened patiently, looked at us, 
his eyes passing over me without any sign of recog- 
nition, and then ordered Captain Poague to take the 
most serviceable horses and men, man the unin- 
jured gun, send the disabled part of his command 
back to refit, and report to the front for duty. As 
Poague turned to go, I went up to speak to my 
father. When he found out who I was he con- 
gratulated me on being well and unhurt. I then 
said, 'General, are you going to send us in again?' 
'Yes, my son,' he replied, with a smile, 'you all must 
do what you can to help drive these people back.' 
In a letter to Mrs. Lee, General Lee says, 'I have 
not laid eyes on Rob since I saw him in the battle 
of Sharpsburg, going in with a single gun of his, 
for the second time, after his company had been 
withdrawn in consequence of three of its guns hav- 
ing been disabled. . . .' " 

Held by a companion on the caisson, as it was 
driven toward our right, jolting over the partly 
torn-down fences and exposed to far-reaching mis- 



158 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

siles, I had an opportunity of seeing other portions 
of the battlefield. We stopped for a time on the 
ridge overlooking the village almost enveloped in 
the flames of burning buildings, while flocks of ter- 
rified pigeons, driven hither and thither by the 
screaming and bursting shells, flew round and 
round in the clouds of smoke. In hearing, from be- 
yond and to the left of the village, was the fighting 
at "Bloody Lane," a sunken road which was almost 
filled with the dead of both sides when the day 
closed. As was also that at "Burnside Bridge," a 
mile southeast of the town, for the possession of 
which Burnside's corps and Toombs's Georgians 
contended till late in the afternoon. I was not 
averse to leaving this scene when the disabled cais- 
son proceeded, and reached the pike. 

A mile farther on I was deposited on the road- 
side, near the brigade field-hospital ; and, completely 
exhausted, was carried into the yard of a neat brick 
cottage by two stalwart Alleghany Roughs and laid 
beside their captain, John Carpenter. The place, 
inside and out, was filled with wounded men. Car- 
penter insisted on my taking the last of his two- 
ounce vial of whiskey, which wonderfully revived 
me. Upon inquiry, he told me he had been shot 
through the knee by a piece of shell and that the 
surgeons wanted to amputate his leg, but, calling 
my attention to a pistol at his side, said, "You see 
that? It will not be taken ofY while I can pull a 
trigger." He entirely recovered, and led his bat- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 159 

tery into the next battle, where he was again se- 
verely wounded. That the history of the four Car- 
penter brothers of Alleghany County, Virginia, has 
not been recorded is a misfortune. As already men- 
tioned, Joe, the oldest, and captain of the Alleghany 
Rough Battery, was mortally wounded near us at 
Cedar Mountain. John, who succeeded him as cap- 
tain, after being w^ounded at Sharpsburg, was again 
wounded at Fredericksburg in 1862, where he was 
twice carried from the field, and as often worked 
his way back to his gun. In Early's campaign in 
1864 he lost his right arm. In the same campaign 
his next younger brother, Ben, lieutenant in the 
same company, was shot through the lungs. The 
wounds of neither had healed when they received 
news, at their home, of the surrender at Appomat- 
tox. Mounting their horses, they set out for Gen. 
Joe Johnston's army in North Carolina, but, on 
arriving at Lexington, Virginia, heard of the sur- 
render of that army. The fourth and youngest bro- 
ther lost a leg near the close of the war. Like all 
true heroes, their modesty was as striking as their 
courage and patriotism. 

On the following day at our hospital the heap of 
amputated legs and arms increased in size until it 
became several feet in height, while the two armies 
lay face to face, like two exhausted monsters, each 
waiting for the other to strike. 

About sundown that afternoon I was put in an 
ambulance with S. R. Moore, of the College com- 



160 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

pany, who was in a semi-conscious state, having 
been struck on the brow, the ball passing out back 
of the ear. The distance to Shepherdstown was 
only three miles, but the slow progress of innumer- 
able trains of wagons and impedimenta generally, 
converging at the one ford of the Potomac, delayed 
our arrival until dawn the next morning. About 
sunrise we were carried into an old deserted frame 
house and assigned to the bare floor for beds. My 
brother David, whose gun had remained on picket 
duty on this side of the river, soon found me, and 
at once set about finding means to get me away. The 
only conveyance available was George Bedinger's 
mother's carriage, but my brother's horse — the same 
brute that had robbed me of my bedding at Lees- 
burg — now refused to work. 

The booming of cannon and bursting of shells 
along the river at the lower end of the town ad- 
monished us that our stay in the desolate old house 
must be short, and, as brigade after brigade marched 
by the door, the apprehension that "they in whose 
wars I had borne my part" would soon "have all 
passed by," made me very wretched. As a last re- 
sort, I was lifted upon the back of this same ob- 
streperous horse and, in great pain, rode to the bat- 
tery, which was camped a short distance from the 
town. 

S. R. Moore was afterward taken to the Bedin- 
gers' residence, where he remained in the enemy's 




^^m^ 



n 




R. T. Barton 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 161 

lines until, with their permission, he was taken home 
by his father some weeks later. 

David Barton, a former member of our company, 
but now in command of Cutshaw's battery, kindly 
sent his ambulance, with instructions that I be taken 
to his father's house in Winchester, which place, in 
company with a wounded man of his battery, I 
reached on the following day. At Mr. Barton's I 
found my cousin and theirs, Robert Barton, . of 
Rockbridge, on sick-leave, and a Doctor Grammer, 
who dressed my wound ; and, although unable to 
leave my bed, I intensely enjoyed the rest and kind- 
ness received in that hospitable home, which was 
repeatedly made desolate by the deaths of its gal- 
lant sons who fell in battle. 

Marshall, the eldest, and heutenant in artillery, 
was killed on the outskirts of Winchester in May, 
1862. David, the third son, whom I have just men- 
tioned, was killed in December of the same year. 
Strother, the second son, lost a leg at Chancellors- 
ville and died soon after the war; and Randolph, the 
fourth son, captain on the staff of the Stonewall 
Brigade, and now a distinguished lawyer in Balti- 
more, was seven times wounded, while Robert, a 
member of our battery, and a gallant soldier, was 
the only one of the five brothers in the service who 
survived the war unscathed. Our mutual cousin, 
Robert Barton of the Rockbridge Cavalry, was shot 



162 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

through the lungs in Early's Valley campaign, and 
left within the enemy's lines, where, nursed by his 
sister, his life hung in the balance for many days. 

The following copy of a letter from Gen. J. E. B. 
Stuart to Miss Virginia Barton is of interest : 

"Center viLLE, Feb. 7, 1862. 
"My Dear Miss Barton : 

"I received your note just as I was upon the point 
of granting your brother a furlough. It greatly 
enhances the pleasure it afforded me to grant it, to 
know how dear a sister he has to receive him at 
home. 

"I avail myself of this opportunity to express my 
very high appreciation of the conspicuous gallantry 
he has displayed on all occasions, and to assure you 
that he is a cavaher of whom a sister and a country 
may be justly proud. 

"Hoping when the war is ended and peace once 
more smiles on old Virginia, to do myself the honor 
to make the acquaintance of the fair young Virginia, 
I am very truly and sincerely, 

"Your well-wisher, 

"J. E. B. Stuart." 

After a sojourn of a few days, leave to go home 
was given me by the department surgeon, and at 
four o'clock in the morning, with young Boiling. 
Barton and Reid serving as my crutches (on their 
way to the Virginia Military Institute), I was put 
in the stage-coach at the front door and driven to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 163 

the hotel, where several Baltimoreans, who were 
returning from Northern prisons, got in. One of 
them was especially noticeable, as his face was much 
pitted by smallpox, and with his Confederate uni- 
form he wore a wide-brimmed straw hat. They 
were a jolly set, and enlivened the journey no little. 
A square or two farther on, two wounded officers 
came from a house at which we stopped, and in an 
authoritative manner demanded seats, inside, all of 
which were occupied. They said they were officers 
in a celebrated command and expected correspond- 
ing consideration. The fellow with the hat told 
them his party was just from Fort Delaware, where 
little distinction was paid to rank, but if they re- 
quired exalted positions they ought to get on top of 
the coach. The officers said they were wounded and 
could not climb up. "I was wounded, too — 
mortally," came from under the hat. After joking 
them sufficiently, the Baltimoreans kindly gave up 
their seats and mounted to the top. 

At the towns at which we stopped to change 
horses, the boys who collected around were enter- 
tained with wonderful stories by our friends from 
Baltimore. Just outside of one of these stopping- 
places, we passed an old gentleman, probably refu- 
geeing, who wore a tall beaver hat and rode a pie- 
bald pony. To the usual crowd of lads who had 
gathered around, they said they were going to give 
a show in the next town and wanted them all to 
come, would give them free tickets, and each a hat- 



164 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ful of "goobers" ; then pointing to the old gentleman 
on the spotted pony, who had now ridden up, said, 
"Ah, there is our clown; he can give you full par- 
ticulars." One hundred and thirty miles from the 
battle-field of Sharpsburg the dawn of the second 
day of our journey showed again the procession of 
wounded men, by whom we had been passing all 
night and who had bivouacked along the road as 
darkness overtook them. 

They were now astir, bathing each other's 
wounds. The distance from Winchester to Staun- 
ton is ninety-six miles, and the trip was made by our 
stage in twenty-six hours, with stops only long 
enough to change horses. 

From nine to ten o'clock in the night I was utterly 
exhausted, and felt that I could not go a mile farther 
alive ; but rallied, and reached Staunton at six o'clock 
in the morning, having been twenty-six hours on the 
way. Here Sam Lyle and Joe Chester, of the Col- 
lege company, detailed as a provost-guard, cared for 
me until the next day, when another stage-ride of 
thirty-six miles brought me to Lexington and home. 
With the aid of a crutch I was soon able to get 
about, but four months passed before I was again 
fit for duty, and from the effects of the wound I am 
lame to this day. 

Since going into the service in March, 1862, six 
months before, I had been in nine pitched battles, 
about the same number of skirmishes, and had 
marched more than one thousand miles — and this, 
too, with no natural taste for war. 



CHAPTER XIX 

RETURN TO ARMY IN WINTER-QUARTERS NEAR PORT 

ROYAL 

On December 13, 1862, the great first battle of 
Fredericksburg had been fought, in which four men 
— Montgomery, McCalpin, Fuller and Beard — in 
my detachment had been killed, and others wounded, 
while the second piece, standing close by, did not 
lose a man. This section of the battery was posted 
in the flat, east of the railroad. As I was not pres- 
ent in this battle I will insert an account recently 
given me by Dr. Robert Frazer, a member of the 
detachment, who was severely wounded at the time : 

"First battle of Fredericksburg, December 13, 
1862. — We reached the field a little after sunrise, 
having come up during the night from Port Royal, 
where we had been engaging the enemy's gunboats. 
The first section, under Lieutenant Graham, went 
immediately into action in front of Hamilton's 
Crossing. 

"In conjunction with Stuart's horse artillery it 
was our mission to meet Burnside's movement 
against General Lee's right wing, resting on the 
Rappahannock. With the exception of brief inter- 
vals, to let the guns cool, we ceased firing only once 
during the entire day, and this was to move about 

165 



166 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

a hundred yards for a more effective position. Ex- 
cepting the few minutes this occupied, our guns and 
hmber-chests remained in the same position all day, 
the caissons plying steadily between the ordnance- 
train and the battle line, to keep up the stock of 
ammunition. I do not recall the number of casual- 
ties, but our losses were heavy. When we came to 
make the change of position mentioned above, more 
than half the horses were unable to take a single 
step. One of the drivers, Fuller, was lying on the 
ground, his head toward the enemy. A shell en- 
tered the crown of his head and exploded in his 
body ! Not long after this I heard some one calling 
me, and, looking back, I saw 'Doc' Montgomery 
prostrate. I ran to him and, stooping at his side, 
began to examine his wound. 'There is nothing 
you can do for me,' he said, 'I am mortally wounded, 
and can live but a little while. Take a message for 
my mother.' (His mother was a widow.) 'When 
the battle is over, write and tell her how I died — at 
my post — like a man — and ready to give my life 
for the cause. Now, Frazer, pray for me.' When 
the brief prayer was ended I resumed my place at 
the gun. It was about this time, I think, that Pel- 
ham came up and said, 'Well, you men stand kill- 
ing better than any I ever saw.' A little later, just 
after sunset, I received two severe wounds myself, 
one of them disabling my right arm for life; and 
so I had to commit brave 'Doc's' dying message for 
his mother to other hands." 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 167 

The third and fourth pieces, twenty-pound Par- 
rott guns, were on the hill west of the railroad, and 
there Lieutenant Baxter McCorkle, Randolph Fair- 
fax and Arthur Robinson were killed, and Edward 
Alexander lost an arm. Lieut. -Col. Lewis Cole- 
man, professor of Latin at the University of Vir- 
ginia, second in command of the battalion, while 
standing by this gun received a mortal wound. This 
section of the battery was exposed to a fire unsur- 
passed in fierceness during the war. The ground, 
when it arrived, was already strewn with dead 
horses and wrecked batteries, and two horses that 
were standing, with holes in their heads through 
which daylight could be seen, were instantly killed 
by other shots intended for our guns. 

Captain Poague has since told me that the orders 
General Jackson gave him as he came to the place 
were, "to fire on the enemy's artillery till it became 
too hot for him, and then to turn his guns on their 
infantry," and that he, Poague, had stated this in 
his official report, and the chief of artillery of the 
corps, before forwarding the report, had asked him 
if he was sure that these were General Jackson's 
orders. He told him he was. The report was then 
endorsed and so forwarded. 

The scene, as described at the close of this battle 
near nightfall, was a melancholy one. As the two 
sections of the battery, which had separated and 
gone to different portions of the field in the morn- 
ing — the one to the heights, the other to the plain 



168 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

— met again, on the caissons of each were borne the 
dead bodies of those of their number who had fal- 
len, the wounded, and the harness stripped from 
the dead horses. The few horses that had survived, 
though scarcely able to drag the now empty ammu- 
nition-chests, were thus again burdened. 

After going into bivouac and the dead had been 
buried, to clear the ground for a renewal of the 
battle on the following day, the wagon-horses had 
to be brought into requisition. These were driven 
in pairs to the position on the bluff and, as lights 
would attract the fire of the enemy, the dead horses 
had to be found in the darkness, and with chains 
dragged to the rear. The approach of the first in- 
stalment to a line of infantry, through which it had 
to pass and who were roused from sleep by the 
rattling of chains and the dragging of the ponder- 
ous bodies through brush and fallen timber, created 
no little excitement, and a wide berth was given the 
gruesome procession. By midnight the work had 
been accomplished. 

At dawn of the following day a fresh detach- 
ment of men and horses having been furnished by 
another battery for the fourth piece, our battery 
again went into position. There it remained inac- 
tive throughout the day, while the enemy's dead 
within our lines were being buried by their own 
men under flag of truce. On the night which fol- 
lowed, as the two armies lay under arms, confront- 
ing each other, a display of the aurora borealis, of 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 169 

surpassing splendor and beauty, was witnessed. At 
such times, from time immemorial, "shooting-stars," 
comets, and the movements of the heavenly bodies 
have been observed with profoundest interest as 
presaging good or evil. On this occasion, with the 
deep impress of what had just been experienced and 
the apprehension of an even more determined con- 
flict on the day next to dawn, it can readily be im- 
agined that minds naturally prone to superstition 
were thrilled with emotions and conjectures aroused 
by the sight. At any rate, these "northern lights," 
reinforced by the memory of the fearful carnage 
so recently suffered, seem to have been interpreted 
as a summons home — as the Northern hosts, like 
the shifting lights, had vanished from view when 
daylight appeared. 

In January, 1863, with William McClintic, of our 
company, I returned to the army, which was in 
winter-quarters near Guiney's Station in CaroHne 
County. 

After arriving in a box-car at this station, about 
midnight, during a pouring rain, we found one sec- 
tion of the battery camped three miles from Port 
Royal. The other section, to which I belonged, was 
on picket twelve miles beyond — at Jack's Hill, over- 
looking Port Tobacco Bay. The section near Port 
Royal had comfortable winter-quarters on a hill- 
side and was well sheltered in pine woods. The pic- 
ture on the opposite page, is a copy from the origi- 
nal, and a perfect representation by Edward Hyde, 



170 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

who, with Wilham Bolhng, Thomas McCorkle, Wil- 
Ham McCHntic, A. S. Dandridge, G. W. Stewart, 
David Moore, and myself, constituted the mess. The 
homes of the other messes, at intervals, near. The 
tent on the left was our sleeping apartment, accom- 
modating six men ; the other two occupied a Yankee 
tent-fly, not shown in the picture. We slept three 
in a bed ; when weary of lying on one side, the word 
to turn over was "when," and the movement was 
executed simultaneously and with military precision. 
The other structure was our kitchen and dining- 
room, a semi-"dugout," with the fireplace in the 
earthen wall. The little box attached to a log con- 
tained our table-ware, if we had had a table, and 
was just above the mess-chest. We had two meals 
a day, consisting usually of meat and biscuit. Gen- 
erally we had coffee, either genuine or rye, similar 
in flavor to "postum." 

When the number of biscuit turned out happened 
not to be a multiple of eight, say fifty-seven, every 
man in the mess took into account the odd one, and 
to get through with the seven allotted to him, with- 
out appearing over-anxious to secure it, with be- 
coming propriety, and aware, too, that every other 
man had the same ambition, brought into play an 
exercise of talent that was not uninteresting. An 
extra draught of coffee left in the pot was subject to 
similar consideration and fell to the lot of him 
whose throat could stand the highest degree of 
temperature. More than once there were evidences 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 171 

that the boiling process had not entirely ceased un- 
til after it was swallowed. The plantation adjoin- 
ing the one on which we were camped was owned 
by a gentleman named Garrett, and at his barn 
Wilkes Booth, who assassinated President Lincoln, 
was afterwards overtaken and killed. 

As most of my mess were in this section, I was 
allowed to remain until the contents of my box 
brought from home were consumed. One night 
soon after my arrival, while making a visit to mern- 
bers of another mess, Abner Arnold, one of my 
hosts, pointing to several large, dark stains on the 
tarpaulin which served as the roof of their shanty, 
said, "Have you any idea what discolored those 
places ?" As I had not, he said, "That's your blood ; 
that is the caisson-cover on which you were hauled 
around at Sharpsburg— and neither rain nor snow 
can wash it out." 

The infantry of the Stonewall Brigade was in 
camp seven miles from us, toward the railroad. 
Having ridden there one morning for our mail, I 
met two men in one of their winter-quarters' 
streets. One of them, wearing a citizen's overcoat, 
attracted my attention. Then, noticing the scars 
on his face, I recognized my former messmate, 
Wash. Stuart, on his return to the battery for the 
first time since his fearful wound at Winchester the 
preceding May. His companion was Capt. Willie 
Randolph, of the Second Virginia Regiment, both 
of whom will be mentioned later. 



172 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

The chief sport of the troops in their winter- 
quarters was snowbalHng, which was conducted on 
regular military principles. Two brigades would 
sometimes form in line of battle, commanded by 
their officers, and pelt each other without mercy. In 
one such engagement a whole brigade was driven 
pell-mell through its camp, and their cooking uten- 
sils captured by their opponents. 

Once a week quite regularly an old negro man 
came to our camp with a wagon-load of fine oysters 
from Tappahannock. It was interesting to see some 
of the men from our mountains, who had never 
seen the bivalve before, trying to eat them, and hear 
their comments. Our custom was to buy anything 
to eat that came along, and so they had invested 
their Confederate notes in oysters. One of them 
gave some of my messmates an account of the time 
his mess had had with their purchases. When it 
was proposed that they sell their supply to us, he 
said, "No, we are not afraid to tackle anything, and 
we've made up our minds to eat what we've got on 
hand, if it takes the hair off." 

While in this camp, although it was after a five- 
months' absence, I invariably waked about two min- 
utes before my time to go on guard, having slept 
soundly during the rest of the four hours. One 
officer, always finding me awake, asked if I ever 
slept at all. The habit did not continue, and had 
not been experienced before. An instance of the 
opposite extreme I witnessed here in an effort to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 173 

rouse Silvey, who was generally a driver. After 
getting him on his feet, he was shaken, pnlled, and 
dragged around a blazing fire, almost scorching 
him, until the guard-officer had to give him up. If 
feigning, it was never discovered. 

The contents of my box having long since been 
consumed, L with several others, was sent, under 
command of Lieut. Cole Davis, to my section at 
Jack's Hill. There we were quartered in some negro 
cabins on this bleak hill, over which the cold winds 
from Port Tobacco Bay had a fair sweep. On my 
return from the sentinel's beat one snowy night I 
discovered, by the dim firelight, eight or ten sheep 
in our cabin, sheltering from the storm. The temp- 
tation, with such an opportunity, to stir up a panic, 
was hard to resist. But, fearing the loss of an eye 
or other injury to the prostrate sleepers on the dirt 
floor, by the hoof of a bucking sheep, I concluded 
to forego the fun. After a stay of several weeks we 
were ordered back to the other section, much to our 
delight. In that barren region, with scant proven- 
der and protected from the weather by a roof of 
cedar-brush, our horses had fared badly, and showed 
no disposition to pull when hitched to the guns that 
were held tight in the frozen mud. To one of the 
drivers, very tall and long of limb, who was trying 
in vain with voice and spur to urge his team to do 
its best, our Irish wit, Tom Martin, called out, "Pull 
up your frog-legs, Tomlin, if you want to find the 
baste ; your heels are just a-spurrin' one another a 
foot below his belly!" 



174 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

We were delighted to be again in our old quar- 
ters, where we were more in the world and guard 
duty lighter. Several times before leaving this camp 
our mess had visits from the two cousins, Lewis and 
William Randolph, the first-named a captain in the 
Irish Battalion, the second a captain in the Second 
Virginia Regiment, who stopped over-night with 
us, on scouting expeditions across the Rappahan- 
nock in the enemy's lines, where Willie Randolph 
had a sweetheart, whom he, soon after this, mar- 
ried. Lewis Randolph told us that he had killed a 
Federal soldier with a stone in the charge on the 
railroad-cut at second Manassas ; that the man, who 
was about twenty steps from him, was recapping 
his gun, which had just missed fire while aimed at 
Randolph's orderly-sergeant, when he threw the 
stone. William Randolph said, "Yes, that's true ; 
when we were provost-officers at Frederick, Mary- 
land, a man was brought in under arrest and, look- 
ing at Lewis, said, T've seen you before. I saw 
you kill a Yankee at second Manassas with a stone,' 
and then related the circumstances exactly." 

William Randolph was six feet two inches in 
height, and said that he had often been asked how 
he escaped in battle, and his reply was, "By taking 
a judicious advantage of the shrubbery." This, 
however, did not continue to avail him, as he was 
afterward killed while in command of his regiment, 
beinsf one of the six commanders which the Second 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 175 

Virginia Regiment lost — killed in battle — during 
the war. 

In March we moved from our winter-quarters to 
Hamilton's Crossing, three miles from Fredericks- 
burg, where we remained in camp, with several 
interruptions, until May. Our fare here was greatly 
improved by the addition of fresh fish, so abundant 
at that season of the year in the Rappahannock and 
the adjacent creeks. To a mountaineer familiar 
with the habits of the wary trout and other fish that 
are caught with hook and line, the manner of fish- 
ing here was very novel. Of the herring and shad 
left by the hundreds in the grass and shallows as the 
tide receded, the soldiers had only to wade in and 
with stick or bare hand to secure all they could 
carry. Circling overhead was a concourse of fish- 
hawks and eagles, each watching his chance to swoop 
down on his prey, then ascending with his catch, 
whose silvery sides gleamed in the sunlight like a 
polished bayonet, run the gauntlet of his pursuers. 
In April the great cavalry battle at Kelly's Ford, 
forty miles above, was fought, in which the "Gal- 
lant Pelham" was killed. 



CHAPTER XX 

SECOND BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG CHANCEL- 

LORSVILLE WOUNDING AND DEATH OF STONE- 
WALL JACKSON 



The battle at Kelly's Ford was the forerunner of 
the crossing of Hooker's army to our side of the 
river, although this was delayed longer than was 
expected. "Fighting Joe Hooker" having succeeded 
Burnside as commander of the Army of the Poto- 
mac, numbering 130.000, was the fourth Federal 
general delegated to crush Lee, with less than 
50,000, Longstreet's corps being still on the Virginia 
peninsula. In the latter part of April we were 
roused one morning before dawn to go into posi- 
tion on the fatal hill in the bend of the railroad. 
The various divisions of the army were already in 
motion from their winter-quarters, and, as they 
reached the neighborhood, were deployed in line of 
battle above and below. 

The high hills sloping toward the river on the 
enemy's side were manned with heavy siege-guns, 
from which shells were thrown at intervals as our 
troops came into view. Here we lay for a day or 
more, with guns unlimbered, awaiting the tedious 
disposition of the various divisions. The bluff on 

176 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 177 

which our guns were posted, commanding, as it did, 
an extensive view of the country, attracted many of 
the officers, who had preceded their men, and, with 
field-glasses, scanned the surroundings. I saw at 
one time, within a few rods of where we stood. 
Generals Lee, Jackson, D. H. and A. P. Hill, Early, 
Rodes and Colston, besides a score of brigadiers. 
At this time the enemy were moving across their 
pontoon bridges and extending their skirmish-lines 
on the right and left. 

The only time I met General Jackson to speak to 
him since he had left Lexington was when he rode 
away from this group of officers. As I held aside 
the limb of a tree in his w-ay, near our gun, he ex- 
tended his hand and, as he gave me a hearty shake, 
said, "How do you do, Edward?" A short time 
after this, our battery had orders to fire a few 
rounds, as a sort of "feeler," and the enemy at once 
replied. The officers, not having been informed of 
the order, were for a time exposed to an unneces- 
sary and what might have proved very serious dan- 
ger. Ho^^•ever, they withdrew before any damage 
was done, although a large piece of shell which 
flew past our gun gave General Colston a close call 
as he tarried near it. After threatening weather, 
the sun rose clear on the following morning. A 
light mist which lay along the river soon disap- 
peared, and again, as at Harper's Ferry, our ele- 
vated position afforded a superb view. A level plain 
extended to the river in our front and for some 



178 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

miles to the right, and as far as Fredericksburg (two 
miles) to the left, and beyond the river the Stafford 
Heights. 

While we were standing admiring the scene, three 
horses without riders came dashing from within the 
Federal lines, and swept at full speed between the 
two armies. They ran as if on a regular race-track 
and conscious of the many spectators who cheered 
them to their best. Then, veering in their course 
from side to side, they finally shot through an open- 
ing made to receive them into our lines, which raised 
a "rebel yell," as if Jackson were passing by. One 
of these horses trotted into our battery and was 
caught and ridden by Sergeant Strickler, under the 
name of "Sedgwick," to the close of the war. 

Hooker's crossing the river at Fredericksburg 
was only a feint, as the mass of his army crossed 
near Chancellorsville, and thither our army went, 
leaving Early's division, two other brigades and sev- 
eral batteries, including ours, to oppose Sedgwick's 
corps. After three days here, with occasional artil- 
lery duels, Sedgwick recrossed the river, and Early, 
supposing he would join Hooker, set out with his 
command toward Chancellorsville. Before we had 
gone three miles I heard General Barksdale, as he 
rode along the column, ask for General Early, who 
was a short distance ahead, and announce, "My 
young men have told me that the Federals are re- 
crossing the river." A few moments later, as the 
two rode back together. General Early said, "If 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 179 

that is the case, I must go back or they will get my 
wagon-train." 

We at once countermarched, and by eleven o'clock 
were back in position on the same bluff. The fourth 
detachment was in front and failed to get the order 
to countermarch, and so kept on almost to Chancel- 
lorsville, and did not rejoin us until eight o'clock 
the next morning (Sunday), having spent the whole 
night marching. 

I will mention here a striking instance of what 
I suppose could be called the "irony of fate." My 
bedfellow, Stuart, as already stated, had been fear- 
fully wounded at Winchester, his first battle. After 
his return many months later, he often expressed 
the greatest desire to pass through one battle unhurt, 
and regarded his companions who had done so as 
fortunate heroes. It was now Sunday morning and 
there had been heavy firing for an hour or two about 
Fredericksburg, and thither the third and fourth 
pieces were ordered. As they were starting off, I 
saw Stuart bidding good-by to several friends, and 
I, not wishing to undergo a thing so suggestive, was 
quietly moving off. But he called out, "Where is my 
partner?" and came to me, looking so jaded after 
his long night-march that his farewell made me 
rather serious. In half an hour he was dead. As 
he was going with his gun into position a case-shot 
exploded close to him and three balls passed through 
his body, any one of which would have been fatal. 

Two other members of the battery, Henry Foutz 



180 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

and J. S. Agnor, were also killed in this engage- 
ment. The position was a trying one. Two bat- 
teries had already suffered severely while occupying 
it, and the cannoneers of a third battery were lying 
inactive by their guns as ours came into it. But in 
less than an hour thereafter the enemy's guns were 
outmatched ; at any rate, ceased firing. General 
Hoke, who had witnessed the whole affair, came 
and asked Major Latimer to introduce him to Cap- 
tain Graham, saying he wanted to know the man 
whose guns could do such execution. About noon 
my section joined the others a short distance in rear 
of this place on the hills overlooking Fredericks- 
burg. 

Soon after we had gotten together, the bodies of 
our dead comrades were brought from the places at 
which they had fallen, and William Boiling, Berke- 
ley Minor and myself, messmates of Stuart, were 
detailed to bury him. His body was taken in our 
battery ambulance, which we accompanied, to the 
Marye family cemetery near our old camp, and per- 
mission gotten to bury it there. HI was ever utterly 
miserable, it was on this Sunday afternoon as we 
stood, after we had dug the grave, in this quiet 
place, surrounded by a dense hedge of cedar, the 
ground and tombstones overgrown with moss and 
ivy, and a stillness as deep as if no war existed. Just 
at this time there came timidly through the hedge, 
like an apparition, the figure of a woman. She 
proved to be Mrs. Marye; and, during the battle, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 181 

which had now continued four days, she had been 
seeking shelter from the enemy's shells in the cellar 
of her house. She had come to get a lock of Stuart's 
hair for his mother, and her presence, now added to 
that of our ambulance driver, as Minor read the 
Episcopal burial service, made the occasion painfully 
solemn. In less than an hour we were again with 
the battery and in line of battle with the whole of 
our battalion, twenty guns, all of which opened 
simultaneously on what appeared to be a coltimn 
of artillery moving through the woods in our front. 
However, it proved to be a train of wagons, some of 
which were overturned and secured by us the next 
day. 

Here we lay during the night with guns unlimb- 
ered near Gen. "Extra Billy" Smith's brigade of in- 
fantry. Next afternoon we had a fine view of a 
charge by Early's division, with Brigadier-Generals 
Gordon and Hoke riding to and fro along their 
lines and the division driving the Federals from their 
position along the crest of the hill. The greater 
portion of the enemy's killed and wounded were 
left in our hands. Many of the latter with whom 
we talked were heartily sick of the war and longed 
for the expiration of their term of service. This 
series of battles, continuing, as it did, at intervals 
for a week, was not yet done with. 

After dark our battery was ordered to move 
down toward Fredericksburg and occupy some earth- 
works just outside of the town. We had been well 



182 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

in range of the siege-guns already, but now the only 
hope was that they would overshoot us. As I was 
on guard that night I had ample time, while pacing 
the breastworks, for cogitation. I heard distinctly 
the barking of the dogs and the clocks striking the 
hours during the night. When morning came, a 
dense fog had settled along the river, entirely con- 
cealing us, and while it hung we were ordered to 
pull out quietly. 

Two hundred yards back from this place we 
came into clear sunlight and, as we turned, saw an 
immense balloon poised on the surface of the mist, 
and apparently near enough to have pierced it with 
a shell. Not a shot was fired at us — veiled, as we 
were, by the mist — until we had gotten still farther 
away, but then some enormous projectiles landed 
around us. 

A question that would naturally present itself to 
one who had heard of the repeated victories won by 
the Confederate army would be, "Why were no 
decisive results?" By carefully studying the history 
of the war, the inquirer could not fail to notice that 
at every crisis either some flagrant failure on the 
part of a subordinate to execute the duty assigned 
to him occurred, or that some untoward accident be- 
fell the Confederate arms. Conspicuous among the 
latter was Jackson's fall at Chancellorsville. 

That General Hooker seemed entirely ignorant 
of the proximity of General Lee's army was dis- 
closed by the discovery, by General Fitz Lee, that 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 183 

the right flank of the Federal army was totally un- 
guarded. 

General Jackson, when informed of this, pro- 
ceeded by a rapid march to throw his corps well to 
the right and rear of this exposed wing, and by this 
unexpected onset threw that portion of Hooker's 
army into the utmost confusion and disorder. Fall- 
ing night for a time checked his advance, but, while 
making dispositions to push the advantage gained, 
so as to envelope his adversary, he passed, with his 
staff, outside of his picket line, and when returning 
to re-enter was mortally wounded by his own men. 

This May 4 closed the great effort of General 
Hooker, with 132,000 men, to "crush" General Lee's 
army of 47,000. The two last of the six days of 
his experience in the effort probably made him 
thankful that the loss of 20,000 of his force had 
been no greater. 

The mortal wounding of Jackson and his death 
on the tenth more than offset the advantage of the 
victory to the Confederates. His loss was deplored 
by the whole army, especially by General Lee, and 
to his absence in later battles, conspicuously at Get- 
tysburg, was our failure to succeed attributed. In 
fact General Lee said to a friend, after the war, that 
with Jackson at Gettysburg our success would have 
been assured — a feeling that was entertained 
throughout the army. 

On the evening of the fifth, rain, which seemed 
invariably to follow a great battle, fell in torrents 



184 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

and we went into camp drenched to the skin. After 
drying by a fire, I went to bed and slept for eighteen 
hours. Being in our old position on the hill, we 
converted it into a camp and there remained. 

On that portion of the great plain which extended 
along the railroad on our right we witnessed a grand 
review of Jackson's old corps, now commanded by 
General Ewell. The three divisions, commanded, 
respectively, by Generals Ed. Johnson, Rodes and 
Early, were drawn up one behind the other, with a 
space of seventy-five yards between, and General 
Lee, mounted on "Traveler" and attended by a full 
staff and numerous generals, at a sweeping gallop, 
made first a circuit of the entire corps, then in front 
and rear of each division. One by one his attend- 
ants dropped out of the cavalcade. Gen. Ed. John- 
son escaped a fall from his horse by being caught 
by one of his staff. Early soon pulled out, followed 
at intervals by others ; but the tireless gray, as with 
superb ease and even strides he swept back and 
forth, making the turns as his rider's body inclined 
to right or left, absorbed attention. The distance 
covered was nine miles, at the end of which Gen- 
eral Lee drew rein with only one of his staff and 
Gen. A. P. Hill at his side. Such spectacles were 
to us extremely rare, and this one was especially 
well timed, affording the troops, as it did, an oppor- 
tunity to see that they were still formidable in num- 
ber, and although Jackson was dead that the soul 
of the army had not passed away. 



CHAPTER XXI 

OPENING OF CAMPAIGN OF 1863 CROSSING TO THE 

VALLEY BATTLE AT WINCHESTER WITH MIL- 
ROY CROSSING THE POTOMAC 

The indications of another campaign were now 
not wanting", but what shape it would take caused 
curious speculation ; that is, among those whose duty 
was only to execute. Longstreet had been recalled 
from the Virginia Peninsula; Hooker's hosts again 
lined the Stafford Heights across the Rappahan- 
nock. At evening we listened to the music of their 
bands, at night could see the glow of their camp- 
fires for miles around. On June 2, Ewell's corps 
first broke camp, followed in a day or two by Long- 
street's while A. P. Hill's remained at Fredericks- 
burg to observe the movements of Hooker. On the 
eighth we reached Culpeper, where we remained 
during the ninth, awaiting the result of the greatest 
and most stubbornly contested cavalry engagement 
of the war, which continued throughout the day in 
our hearing — at Brandy Station. The Federals 
having been driven across the river, our march was 
resumed on the tenth. 

On the following day we heard, at first indis- 
tinctly, toward the front of the column continued 
cheering. Following on, it grew louder and louder. 
We reached the foot of a long ascent, from the sum- 

185 



186 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

mit of which the shout went up, but were at a loss 
to know what called it forth. Arriving there, there 
loomed up before us the old Blue Ridge, and we, 
too, joined in the chorus. Moving on with renewed 
life, the continued greeting of those following was 
heard as eye after eye took in its familiar face. We 
had thought that the love for these old mountains 
was peculiar to us who had grown up among them ; 
but the cheer of the Creoles who had been with us 
under Jackson was as hearty as our own. 

We passed through Little Washington, thence 
by Chester Gap to Front Royal, the first of our old 
battlegrounds in the Valley, having left Longstreet's 
and Hill's corps on the east side of the mountain. 
At Winchester, as usual, was a force of the enemy 
under our former acquaintance, General Milroy. 
Without interruption we were soon in his vicinity. 
Nearly two days were consumed in feeling his 
strength and position. Our battery was posted on 
a commanding hill north of the town, the top of 
which was already furrowed with solid shot and 
shells to familiarize the enemy with its range. Our 
battery now consisted of two twenty-pound Par- 
rott, and two brand-new English Blakeley guns, to 
one of which I belonged. And a singular coinci- 
dence it was that in putting in the first charge my 
gun was choked, the same thing having occurred 
on the same field a year before, being the only times 
it happened during the war. I went immediately 
to the third piece and took the place of No. 1. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 187 

The battle had now begun, the enemy firing at us 
from a strongly fortified fort near the town. Their 
target practice was no criterion of their shooting 
when being shot at, as not one of us was even 
wounded. While the battle was in progress we had 
a repetition of the race at Fredericksburg when 
there dashed from the Federal fort three artillery 
horses, which came at full speed over the mile be- 
tween us, appearing and disappearing from view. 
On reaching the battery they were caught, and one 
of them, which we named "Milroy," was driven by 
James Lewis at the wheel of my gun, and restored 
with "Sedgwick" to his old associates at Appomat- 
tox. 

Night put a stop to hostilities, and the next day, 
until late in the afternoon, we passed inactively. 
Then Hayes's Louisiana Brigade, formerly com- 
manded by Gen. Dick Taylor, formed in our front 
and, charging with the old yell, captured the fort. 
After night I found two members of our company 
in possession of a little mule, equipped with saddle 
and bridle, supposed to be a United States animal. 
They said they were afraid of mules, and turned 
him over to me. I forthwith mounted, and passed 
an hour pleasantly, riding around. As I once heard 
a little negro say, "I went everywhar I knowed, an' 
every whar I didn't know I come back." I felt now 
that I had a mount for the campaign, but next 
morning one of the Richmond Howitzers claimed 
the mule and identified it as his. 



188 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

The bulk of Milroy's force escaped during the 
night, but we captured four thousand prisoners, 
twenty-eight pieces of artillery, and hundreds of 
wagons and horses, and equipped ourselves, as we 
had done in 1862, at the expense of Banks. For 
our two recently acquired English Blakeley guns 
we substituted two twenty-pound Parrotts, giving 
us four guns of the same caliber. On the thirteenth 
we crossed the Potomac at Sheperdstown, thence 
by way of Hagerstown, Maryland, to Greencastle, 
Pennsylvania, the first live Yankee town we had 
visited in war times. Many of the stores were open 
and full of goods, but as they refused to take Con- 
federate money, and we were forbidden to plunder, 
we passed on, feeling aggrieved, and went into 
camp a few miles beyond. 

Having a curiosity to test the resources and hos- 
pitality of this abundant country, I set out from 
camp, with two companions, for this purpose. A 
walk of a mile brought us to the house of a widow 
with three pretty daughters. They told us they had 
been feeding many of our soldiers and could give 
us only some milk, which they served, as seemed to 
be the custom of the country, in large bowls. They 
said they did not dislike rebels, and if we would 
go on to Washington and kill Lincoln, and end the 
war, they would rejoice. Proceeding farther, we 
stopped at a substantial brick house and were silently 
ushered into a large room, in the far end of which 
sat the head of the house, in clean white shirt-sleeves 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 189 

but otherwise dressed for company, his hat on and 
his feet as high as his head against the wall, smok- 
ing a cigar. At the other end of the room the rest 
of the family were at supper, of which we were 
perfunctorily asked by the mistress to partake. A 
very aged lady, at a corner of the table, without 
speaking or raising her eyes, chewed apparently 
the same mouthful during our stay — one of our 
party suggested, "perhaps her tongue." The table 
was thickly covered with saucers of preserves, 
pickles, radishes, onions, cheese, etc. The man of 
the house did not turn his head nor speak a word 
during our stay, which was naturally over with the 
meal. 

We returned to the battalion about sunset, en- 
camped in a clean, grassy enclosure, the horses en- 
joying their bountiful food, the men in gay spirits, 
and the regimental bands playing lively airs. Shortly 
after our return, there occurred an incident which 
lent additional interest to the occasion. 

No one at all familiar with the Rockbridge Ar- 
tillery will fail to remember Merrick. A lawyer 
and native of Hagerstown, Maryland, having been 
educated abroad, he was an accomplished scholar 
and a fine musician, with a stock of Irish and other 
songs which he sang admirably. In person he was 
very slender, over six feet in height, with a long 
neck, prominent nose, and very thin hair and 
whiskers. Cut off from home and being utterly 
improvident, he was entirely dependent on quarter- 



190 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

master's goods for his apparel, and when clothing 
was issued his forlorn and ragged appearance 
hushed every claim by others who might have had 
precedence. This Confederate clothing, like the 
rations, was very short, so that Merrick's panta- 
loons and jacket failed to meet, by several inches, 
the intervening space showing a very soiled cotton 
shirt. With the garments mentioned — a gray cap, 
rusty shoes and socks, and, in winter, half the tail 
of his overcoat burnt off — his costume is described. 

Indifference to his appearance extended also to 
danger, and when a battle was on hand so was Mer- 
rick. Before crossing the Potomac he disappeared 
from the command a perfect-looking vagabond, 
and now as we were reveling in this bountiful coun- 
try there rolled into our midst a handsome equipage 
drawn by two stylish horses. When the door was 
opened out stepped Merrick, handsomely dressed 
in citizen's clothes, and handed out two distin- 
guished-looking gentlemen, to whom he introduced 
us. Then, in the language of Dick Swiveler, "he 
passed around the rosy" ; and all taking a pull, our 
enthusiasm for Merrick mounted high. 

Our march under Ew^ell had been admirably con- 
ducted. We were always on the road at an early 
hour, and, without hurry or the usual halts caused 
by troops crowding on one another, we made good 
distances each day and were in camp by sunset. I 
never before or afterward saw the men so buoyant. 
There was no demonstration, but a quiet undercur- 




B. C. M. Frii:xd 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 191 

rent of confidence that they were there to conquer. 
The horses, too, invigorated by abundant food, car- 
ried higher heads and pulled with firmer tread. 

Our march from Greencastle was through Cham- 
bersburg and Shippensburg, and when within eight 
or ten miles of Carlisle we passed through one or 
two hundred Pennsylvania militia in new Federal 
uniforms, who had just been captured and paroled. 
Before reaching Carlisle we very unexpectedly (to 
us) countermarched, and found the militiamen at 
the same place, but almost all of them barefooted, 
their shoes and stockings having been appropriated 
by needy rebels. As we first saw them they were 
greatly crestfallen, but after losing their footgear 
all spirit seemed to have gone out of them. They 
lingered, it may be, in anticipation of the greetings 
when met by wives and little ones at home, after 
having sallied forth so valiantly in their defense. 
How embarrassing bare feet would be instead of 
the expected trophies of war! Imagine a young 
fellow, too, meeting his sweetheart ! That they kept 
each other company to the last moment, managed 
to reach home after night, and ate between meals 
for some days, we may be sure. 

Before reaching Chambersburg we took a road 
to the left, in the direction of Gettysburg. To give 
an idea of the change in our diet since leaving Dixie, 
I give the bill-of-fare of a breakfast my mess en- 
joyed while on this road : Real coffee and sugar, 
light bread, biscuits with lard in them, butter, apple- 



192 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

butter, a fine dish of fried chicken, and a quarter of 
roast lamb! 

On the morning of July 1 we passed through a 
division of Longstreet's corps bivouacked in a piece 
of woods. Our road lay across a high range of hills, 
from beyond which the sound of cannonading 
greeted us. By three o'clock that afternoon, when 
we reached the summit of the hills, the firing ahead 
had developed into the roar of a battle, and we 
pushed forward on the down-grade. The valley 
below, through which we passed, was thickly settled, 
and soon we began to meet prisoners and wounded, 
whose numbers rapidly increased as we advanced, 
and at the same pump by the roadside we frequently 
saw a group of Federal and Confederate soldiers 
having their wounds bathed and dressed by North- 
ern women, kind alike to friend and foe. When we 
reached the field, about sundown, the battle was 
over. This was July 1 and the first of the three 
days of terrific fighting which constituted the battle 
of Gettysburg. 



CHAPTER XXII 

ON THE WAY TO GETTYSBURG BATTLE OF GETTYS- 
BURG RETREAT 

Before proceeding farther let lis consider briefly 
the condition of the two armies, and which had the 
better grounds to hope for success in the great con- 
flict now impending. With the exception of one — 
Sharpsburg — which was a drawn battle, the Con- 
federates had been victorious in every general en- 
gagement up to this time. Scant rations, depriva- 
tion, and hardships of every kind had made them 
tired of the war ; and the recent abundance had not 
only put them in better fighting condition than ever 
before, but made them long to enjoy it permanently 
at home. 

The Federal army had changed commanders after 
every defeat, and the present one — General Meade 
— who had just been appointed, was not an officer 
to inspire special confidence. With all this in favor 
of the Southerners, all else seemed to conspire 
against them. On the morning of June 30, the day 
before the battle, Pickett's division was at Cham- 
bersburg, thirty miles from Gettysburg ; Hood's and 
McLaw's (the other two divisions of Longstreet's 
corps) fifteen miles nearer Gettysburg; Hill's corps 
at Cashtown, nine miles from Gettysburg; Rodes's 
division of Ewell's corps at Carlisle, thirty miles 



193 



194 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

distant; Johnson's at Greenville, and Early's near 
York. General Early levied for and obtained from 
the city of York several thousand pairs of shoes and 
socks and a less number of hats for his men. and 
$26,000 in money. 

The different portions of the Federal army at 
this time were spread out over a large area, south 
and east of Gettysburg. To the absence of our cav- 
alry, whose whereabouts since crossing the Potomac 
had not been known by General Lee, was due the 
ignorance as to the location of the Federals, causing 
loss of time and the employment of other troops to 
do what the cavalry should have done. It is gener- 
ally conceded that until they found themselves face 
to face the commander of neither army expected or 
desired this locality to be the battle-ground. x\nd 
when we consider the fact that armies have been 
known to maneuver for weeks for a vantage ground 
on which to give battle, we can realize the import- 
ance of this seeming accident, which sealed the doom 
of the Confederacy. For if the whole State of 
Pennsylvania had been gone over, it is probable that 
no other place could have been found which afforded 
sucli advantages as did this to the Northern army. 

Early's division had passed it several days before 
on his way to York, and Pettigrew's brigade of 
Hill's corps on July 1, while approaching in search 
of shoes for his men, encountered Buford's Federal 
cavalry, precipitating the first day's conflict, in which 
Hill's corps, Rodes's and Early's divisions captured 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 195 

5,000 prisoners and drove the Federals through the 
town to the heights beyond. Our battahon of artil- 
lery, soon after dark, passed southward through the 
outskirts of the town with Early's division and 
bivouacked for the night. By dawn of the follow- 
ing day (July 2) sufficient of the Federal army had 
arrived to occupy and fortify the heights. From 
where our battery was posted, a mile east of the 
town, we had in full view the end of Cemetery Hill, 
with an arched gateway for an entrance. To the 
left of it and joined by a depressed ridge was Culp's 
Hill, steep and rugged as a mountain, all now held 
and fortified by the enemy. Jackson's old division, 
now commanded by Gen. Ed. Johnson, having ar- 
rived late in the night, formed at the base of Culp's 
Hill, and before an hour of daylight had elapsed 
had stirred up a hornets' nest in their front. 

I must mention an incident that occurred during 
this forenoon quite interesting to myself. As we 
were standing by our guns, not yet having fired a 
shot, General Ewell and his staff came riding by, 
and Lieut. -Col. Sandy Pendleton, his adjutant, rode 
out from among them and handed me two letters. 
To receive two letters in the army at any time was 
an event, but here, away in the enemy's country, in 
the face of their frowning guns, for them to have 
come so far and then be delivered at the hands of the 
General and his staff was quite something. One of 
the letters I recognized as being from my mother, 
the other aroused my curiosity. The envelope, di- 



196 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

rected in a feminine hand, was very neat, but the 
end had been burned off and the contents were held 
in place by a narrow red ribbon daintily tied. In 
so conspicuous a place, with a battle on, I could not 
trust myself to open my treasures. It was near 
night before a suitable time came, and my billet-doux 
contained the following : 

You are cordially invited to be present 
at the Commencement Exercises of the 

Female Seminary, on the evening 

of July ^rd, i86^, at eight o'clock p. m. 
Compliments of Gertrude — — -. 

My feelings were inexpressible. How I longed 
to be there ! To think of such a place of quiet and 
peace as compared with my surroundings on this 
bloody battlefield ! 

But to return to the serious features of the day. 
With the exception of the steady musketry firing 
by Johnson's men on Gulp's Hill, the day passed 
quietly until nearly four o'clock. At this time An- 
drew's battalion of artillery, led by Major Latimer, 
passed in front of us and went into position two 
hundred yards to our left, and nearer the enemy. 
The ground sloped so as to give us a perfect view of 
his four batteries. Promptly other batteries joined 
those confronting us on Cemetery Hill, and by the 
time Latimer's guns were unlimbered the guns on 
both sides were thundering. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 197 

Li less than five minutes one of Latimer's caissons 
was exploded, which called forth a lusty cheer from 
the enemy. In five minutes more a Federal caisson 
was blown up, which brought forth a louder cheer 
from us. In this action Latimer's batteries suffered 
fearfully, the Alleghany Roughs alone losing twenty- 
seven men killed and wounded. Only one or two 
were wounded in our battery, the proximity of Lati- 
mer's guns drawing the fire to them. Near the close 
of the engagement. Latimer, who was a graduate 
of the Virginia Military Institute, a mere youth in 
appearance, was killed. 

The artillery contest was a small part of the 
afternoon's work. One of Johnson's brigades, after 
capturing breastworks and prisoners on Gulp's Hill, 
pushed nearly to General Meade's headquarters. 
Rodes, usually so prompt, was occupying the town 
and failed to attack till late, and then with but two 
of his four brigades ; but they charged over three 
lines of breastworks and captured several pieces of 
artillery, which had to be abandoned for want of 
support. Sickles's corps, having occupied the two 
"Round Tops" on the extreme left of the Federal 
line, advanced on Longstreet, and at four p. m. the 
two lines met in the celebrated "Peach Orchard," 
and from that time until night fought furiously, the 
Federals being driven back to their original ground. 

At the close of the second day the Gonfederates 
had gained ground on the right and left, and cap- 
tured some artillery, but still nothing decisive. An- 



198 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

other night passed, and the third and last day 
dawned on two anxious armies. Pickett, after a 
mysterious delay of twenty-four hours, arrived dur- 
ing the forenoon and became the left of Longstreet's 
corps. At twelve o'clock word was passed along our 
lines that when two signal-guns were heard, fol- 
lowed by heavy firing, to open vigorously with our 
guns. There was no mistaking when that time came, 
and we joined with the three hundred guns that 
made the firing. For an hour or more a crash and 
roar of artillery continued that rolled and reverber- 
ated above, and made the earth under us tremble. 
When it began there was great commotion among 
the enemy's batteries in our front, some of which 
limbered up and galloped along the crest of Ceme- 
tery Hill, but soon returned and renewed their fire 
on us. 

So far they had failed to do our battery any 
serious harm, but now each volley of their shells 
came closer and closer. At this time my attention 
was attracted to the second piece, a few paces to our 
left, and I saw a shell plow into the ground under 
Lieutenant Brown's feet and explode. It tore a 
large hole, into which Brown sank, enveloped as he 
fell in smoke and dust. In an instant another shell 
burst at the trail of my gun, tearing the front half 
of Tom Williamson's shoe of¥, and wounding him 
sorely. A piece of it also broke James Ford's leg, 
besides cutting off the fore leg of Captain Graham's 
horse. Ford was holding the lead-horses of the 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 199 

limber, and, as they wheeled to run, their bridles 
were seized by Rader, a shell struck the horse nearest 
to him, and, exploding at the instant, killed all four 
of the lead-horses and stunned Rader. These same 
horses and this driver had very nearly a similar ex- 
perience (though not so fatal) at Sharpsburg a year 
before, as already described. Sam Wilson, another 
member of our detachment, was also painfully 
wounded and knocked down by the same shell. 

This artillery bombardment was the prelude to 
Pickett's charge, which took place on the opposite 
side of Cemetery Hill, and out of our view. Culp's 
Hill, since the early morning previous, had been 
enveloped in a veil of smoke from Johnson's musk- 
ets, which had scarcely had time to cool during the 
thirty-six hours. 

The men of the Fourth Virginia Regiment had 
been gradually and steadily advancing from 
boulder to boulder, until they were almost under the 
enemy's fortifications along the crest of the ridge. 
To proceed farther was physically impossible, to re- 
treat was almost certain death. So, of the College 
company alone, one of whom had already been killed 
and many wounded, sixteen, including Captain 
Strickler, were captured. To John McKee, of this 
company, a stalwart Irish Federal said as he reached 
out to pull him up over the breastworks, "Gim-me 
your hand, Johnny Reb ; you've give' us the bulliest 
fight of the war!" 

Lieutenant "Cush" Jones determined to run the 



200 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

gauntlet for escape, and as he darted away the 
point of his scabbard struck a stone, and throwing 
it inverted above his head, lost out his handsome 
sword. Three bullets passed through his clothing in 
his flight, and the boulder behind which he next took 
refuge was peppered by others. Here, also, my 
former messmate, George Bedinger, now captain of 
a company in the Thirty-third Virginia Regiment, 
was killed, leading his "Greeks," as he called his 
men. 

About nine o'clock that evening, and before we 
had moved from our position, I received a message, 
through Captain Graham, from some of the wounded 
of our company, to go to them at their field-hospital. 
Following the messenger, I found them in charge of 
our surgeon. Dr. Herndon, occupying a neat brick 
cottage a mile in the rear, from which the owners 
had fled, leaving a well-stocked larder, and from it 
we refreshed ourselves most gratefully. Toward 
midnight orders came to move. The ambulances 
were driven to the door and, after the wounded, 
some eight or ten in number, had been assisted into 
them, I added from the stores in the house a bucket 
of lard, a crock of butter, a jar of apple-butter, a 
ham, a middling of bacon, and a side of sole-leather. 
All for the wounded ! 

Feeling assured that we would not tarry much 
longer in Pennsylvania, and expecting to reach the 
battery before my services would be needed, I set 
out with the ambulances. We moved on until day- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 201 

light and joined the wounded of the other batteries 
of our battalion, and soon after left, at a house by 
the wayside, a member of the Richmond Howitzers 
who was dying. Our course was along a by-road 
in the direction of Hagerstown. Li the afternoon, 
after joining the wagon-train, I found "Joe," the 
colored cook of my mess, in possession of a super- 
numerary battery-horse, which I appropriated and 
mounted. Our column now consisted of ambulances 
loaded with wounded men, wounded men on foot, 
cows, bulls, quartermasters, portable forges, sur- 
geons, cooks, and camp-followers in general, all 
plodding gloomily along through the falling rain. 
We arrived at the base of the mountain about 
five p. M. and began ascending by a narrow road, 
leading obliquely to the left. Before proceeding- 
farther some description of the horse I was riding 
is appropriate, as he proved an important factor in 
my experiences before the night was over. He was 
the tallest horse I ever saw outside of a show, with 
a very short back and exceedingly long legs, which 
he handled peculiarly, going several gaits at one 
time. Many a cannoneer had sought rest on his 
back on the march, but none had ventured on so 
high a perch when going into battle. When half- 
way up the mountain we heard to our left oblique 
the distant mutter of a cannon, then in a few mo- 
ments the sound was repeated, but we thought it 
was safely out of our course and felt correspond- 
ingly comfortable. At intervals the report of that 



202 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

gun was heard again and again. About dusk we 
reached the top of the mountain, after many, many 
halts, and the sound of that cannon became more 
emphatic. 

After descending a few hundred yards there came 
from a bridle-path on our left, just as I passed it. 
three cavalry horses with empty saddles. This was 
rather ominous. The halts in the mixed column 
were now frequent, darkness having set in, and we 
had but little to say. That cannon had moved more 
to our front, and our road bore still more to where 
it was thundering. We were now almost at the foot 
of the mountain, and to the left, nearer our front, 
were scattering musket-shots. Our halts were still 
short and frequent, and in the deep shadow of the 
mountain it was pitch-dark. All of this time I had 
not a particle of confidence in my horse. I could 
not tell what was before me in the dense darkness, 
whether friend or foe, but suddenly, after pausing 
an instant, he dashed forward. For fifty or seventy- 
five yards every other sound was drowned by a roar- 
ing waterfall on my right; then, emerging from its 
noise, I was carried at a fearful rate close by dis- 
mounted men who were firing from behind trees 
along the roadside, the flashes of their guns, "whose 
speedy gleams the darkness swallowed," revealing 
me on my tall horse with his head up. He must see 
safety ahead, and I let him fly. 

A hundred yards farther on our road joined the 
main pike at an acute angle, and entering it he swept 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 203 

on. Then, just behind me, a Federal cannon was 
discharged. The charge of canister tore through 
the brush on either side, and over and under me, and 
at the same instant my steed's hind leg gave way, 
and my heart sank with it. If struck at all, he 
immediately rallied and outran himself as well as 
his competitors. After getting out of the range of 
the firing and the shadow of the mountain, I saw 
indistinctly our cavalrymen along the side of the 
road, and we bantered each other as I passed. 

Farther on, at a toll-gate, I heard the voice of 
Tom Williamson. His ambulance had broken down 
and he was being assisted toward the house. I drew 
rein, but thought, "How can I help him? This 
horse must be well-nigh done for," and rode on. 
Since reaching the foot of the mountain the way 
had been open and everything on it moving for life. 
But again the road was full, and approaching clat- 
ter, with the sharp reports of pistols, brought on 
another rush, and away we went — wagons, wounded 
men, negroes, forges, ambulances, cavalry — every- 
thing. 

This in time subsided and, feeling ashamed, I 
turned back to look after my wounded, my horse 
as reluctant as myself, and expecting every moment 
the sound of the coming foe. A sudden snort and 
the timid step of my nervous steed warned me of 
breakers ahead. Peering through the darkness I 
saw coming toward me, noisless and swift as the 
wind, an object white as the driven snow. "What," 



204 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

I asked myself, "are ghosts abroad, and in such a 
place? Is Gettysburg giving up her dead so soon?" 
But, as the thing met me, a voice cried out, "It that 
you, Ned? Is that you? Take me on your horse. 
Let me get in the saddle and you behind." For a 
moment I was dumb, and wished it wasn't I. The 
voice was the voice of Lieutenant Brown, the same 
whom I had seen undermined by the shell at Gettys- 
burg, and who had not put a foot to the ground until 
now. Barefooted, bareheaded; nothing on but 
drawers and shirt — white as a shroud ! The pros- 
pect that now confronted me instantly flashed 
through my mind. First, "Can this horse carry 
two?" Then I pictured myself with such a looking 
object in my embrace, and with nothing with which 
to conceal him. There were settlements ahead, day- 
light was approaching, and what a figure we would 
cut! It was too much for me, and I said, "No, 
get on behind," feeling that the specter might retard 
the pursuing foe. But my tall horse solved the diffi- 
culty. Withdrawing my foot from the stirrup, 
Brown would put his in and try to climb up, when 
suddenly the horse would "swap ends," and down 
he'd go. Again he would try and almost make it, 
and the horse not wheeling quickly enough I would 
give him the hint with my "off" heel. My relief 
can be imagined when an ambulance arrived and took 
Brown in. I accompanied him for a short distance, 
then quickened my pace and overtook the train. 
Presently another clatter behind and the popping of 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 205 

pistols. Riding at my side was a horseman, and by 
the flash of his pistol I saw it pointing to the ground 
at our horses' feet. 

Reaching the foot of a hill, my horse stumbled 
and fell as if to rise no more. I expected to be 
instantly trampled out of sight. I heard a groan, 
but not where the horse's head should have been. 
Resting my feet on the ground, thus relieving him 
of my weight, he got his head from under him and 
floundered forward, then to his feet and away. Far- 
ther on, a swift horse without a rider was dashing 
by me. I seized what I supposed to be his bridle- 
rein, but it proved to be the strap on the saddle-bow, 
and the pull I gave came near unhorsing me. 

The pursuit continued no farther. Not having 
slept for two days and nights, I could not keep 
awake, and my game old horse, now wearied out, 
would stagger heedlessly against the wheels of mov- 
ing wagons. Just at dawn of day, in company with 
a few horsemen of our battalion, I rode through the 
quiet streets of Hagerstown, thence seven miles to 
Williamsport. 

The wounded of our battalion had all been cap- 
tured. A few, however, were not carried off, but 
left until our army came up. Some of the cooks, 
etc., escaped by dodging into the brush, but many a 
good horse and rider had been run down and taken. 
At Williamsport I exchanged horses with an in- 
fantryman while he was lying asleep on a porch, 
and had completed the transaction before he was 
sufficiently awake to remonstrate. 



206 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

It must not be supposed from the experience we 
had undergone that our army was at all demoralized. 
The battle closed on July 3rd. On the next day our 
lines began to withdraw, Ewell's corps holding its 
ground till near noon of the 5th. The Federal com- 
mander, though repeatedly urged by the Washing- 
ton authorities to do so, declined to attack during 
that time. Our army was prevented from crossing 
the Potomac, swollen by heavy rains, till the 14th, 
meantime not only offering but inviting battle, which 
was steadily declined. 

We were now entirely cut off from our army, and 
with w^hat of the wagons, etc., that remained were 
at the mercy of the enemy, as the Potomac was 
swollen to a depth of twenty feet where I had waded 
a year before. Most of the horses had to be swmn 
over, as there was little room in the ferry-boats for 
them. The river was so high that this was very 
dangerous, and only expert swimmers dared to un- 
dertake it. Twenty dollars was paid for swimming 
a horse over, and I saw numbers swept down by the 
current and landed hundreds of yards below, many 
on the side from which they had started. I crossed 
in a ferry-boat on my recently acquired horse, hav- 
ing left my faithful old charger, his head encased 
in mud to the tips of his ears, wnth mingled feelings 
of sadness and gratitude. 

A great curiosity to understand this battle and 
battlefield induced me to visit it at the first oppor- 
tunity, and in 1887, twenty-four years after it was 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 207 

fought, I, with Colonel Poague, gladly accepted an 
invitation from the survivors of Pickett's division 
to go with them to Gettysburg, whither they had 
been invited to meet the Philadelphia Brigade, as 
their guests, and go over the battlefield together. 
After our arrival there, in company with two officers 
of the Philadelphia Brigade, one of Pickett's men 
and an intelligent guide, I drove over the field. As 
a part of our entertainment we saw the Pickett men 
formed on the same ground and in the same order 
in which they had advanced to the charge. Farther 
on we saw the superb monuments, marking the loca- 
tion of the different Federal regiments, presenting 
the appearance of a vast cemetery. The position 
held by the Federals for defense was perfect. Its 
extent rec|uired the whole of the Confederate army 
present to occupy the one line they first adopted, with 
no troops to spare for flanking. Its shape, some- 
what like a fish-hook, enabled the Federal army to 
reinforce promptly any part that was even threat- 
ened. Its terrain was such that the only ground 
sufficiently smooth for an enemy to advance on, 
that in front of its center, was exposed throughout, 
not only to missiles from its front, but could be 
raked from the heights on its left. And, in addition 
to all this, the whole face of the country, when the 
battle was fought, was closely intersected with post 
and rail and stone fences. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

AT '^'^THE bower" RETURN TO ORANGE COUNTY, 

VIRGINIA BLUE RUN CHURCH BRISTOW STA- 
TION RAPPAHANNOCK BRIDGE SUPPLEMENT- 
ING CAMP RATIONS 

To RETURN to my retreat from Gettysburg. The 
clothes that I wore were all that I now possessed. 
My blanket, extra wearing apparel, lard, apple-but- 
ter, sole-leather, etc., with the wounded, were in the 
hands of the Federals. Being completely cut off 
from our army, I set out for Winchester. Near 
Martinsburg I passed the night sleeping on the 
ground — my first sleep in sixty hours — and reached 
Winchester the following day. In a day or two, 
thinking our army had probably reached the Poto- 
mac, I turned back to join it. On my way thither 
I called at "The Bower," the home of my messmate, 
Steve Dandridge. This was a favorite resort of 
Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, where, accompanied by the 
celebrated banjoist, Joe Sweeny, merry nights were 
passed with song and dance. I was overwhelmed 
with kindness by Mr. and Mrs. Dandridge, their 
daughters, nieces, and cousins. The last named be- 
ing two Misses Conrad, of Martinsburg, whose two 
brothers. Tucker and Holmes, had been killed at the 
same instant at first Manassas, and fell clasped in 

208 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 209 

each other's arms. They would not hear of my leav- 
ing ; at any rate, until they had time to make me some 
undergarments. In the afternoon I accompanied 
the young ladies to the fields blackberrying, and had 
some jolly laughs. They felt that a Confederate 
soldier should be treated like a king, that he must be 
worn out with marching and fighting. They insisted 
on my sitting in the shade while they gathered and 
brought me the choicest berries, and actually wanted 
to let the fences down, to save me the effort of climb- 
ing. At that time I weighed one hundred and ninety 
pounds, was in vigorous health and strength, tough 
as hickory, and could go over or through a Virginia 
rail fence as deftly as a mule. It was some days 
before our army could recross the Potomac, on ac- 
count of high water. As I rode in, on my return to 
the battery, I was given a regular cheer, all thinking 
that I was probably, by that time, in Fort Delaware. 
Our wounded had been captured in Pennsylvania, 
except Tom Williamson, who was left at the toll- 
house and picked up as our battery came by. As he 
had become my bedfellow since Stuart's death, I was 
sent with him to Winchester, where I cared for him 
at the home of Mrs. Anne Magill. During my stay 
Randolph Tucker, a brother of Mrs. Magill, and 
Bishop Wilmer, of Alabama, were guests in the 
house, and Mr. Tucker kept the household alive with 
his songs and jokes. After a week or more in camp, 
near Bunker Hill, our despondent army passed 
through Winchester, thence by Front Royal across 



210 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

the Bine Ridge, and encamped for the remainder of 
the summer in Orange County, with men and horses 
greatly depleted in number and spirits. 

Our battery camped at Blue Run Church and near 
a field of corn. Roasting ears afforded the chief 
portion of our living. It was surprising to see how 
much, in addition to the army rations, a man could 
consume day after day, or rather night after night, 
with no especial alteration in his physique. 

Soup was a favorite dish, requiring, as it did, but 
one vessel for all the courses, and the more ingre- 
dients it contained, the more it was relished. Mer- 
rick claimed to be an adept in the culinary art, and 
proposed to several of us that if we would "club in" 
with him he would concoct a pot that would be food 
for the gods. He was to remain in camp, have the 
water boiling, and the meat sufficiently cooked by 
the time the others returned from their various 
rounds in search of provender. In due time, one 
after another, the foragers showed up, having been 
very successful in their acquisitions, which, accord- 
ing to Merrick's directions, were consigned to the 
pot. As some fresh contribution, which he regarded 
as especially savory, was added, Merrick's counten- 
ance would brighten up. At one time he sat quietly 
musing, then gave expression to his joy in an Irish 
ditty. His handsome suit of clothes, donned at 
Hagerstown, was now in tatters, which made his 
appearance the more ludicrous as he "cut the pigeon- 
wing" around the seething cauldron. He had par- 




John M. Kuown 
\\'ai-t iinc pmtiait i 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 211 

ticularly enjoined upon us, when starting out, to 
procure, at all hazards, some okra, which we failed 
to get, and, in naming aloud the various items, as 
each appeared on the surface of the water, he wound 
up his soliloquy with, "And now. Lord, for a little 
okra!" 

In September the army moved again toward Ma- 
nassas, about seventy miles distant. When we ar- 
rived at Bristow, the next station south of Manassas, 
an engagement had just taken place, in which Gen. 
A. P. Hill had been disastrously outwitted by his 
adversary, General Warren, and the ground was still 
strewn with our dead. The Federals were drawn up 
in two lines of battle, the one in front being con- 
cealed in the railroad-cut, while the rear line, with 
skirmishers in front, stood in full view. The Con- 
federates, unaware of the line in the cut, advanced 
to the attack without skirmishers and were terribly 
cut up by the front line, and driven back, with a loss 
of several pieces of artillery and scores of men. The 
delay caused by this unfortunate affair gave the Fed- 
eral army ample time to withdraw at leisure. Gen- 
eral Lee arrived on the scene just at the close of 
this affair and was asked, by General Hill, if he 
should pursue the then retreating Federals. He re- 
plied, "No, General Hill; all that can now be done 
is to bury your unfortunate dead." 

After this we returned to the west side of the 
Rappahannock and encamped at Pisgah Church, 
overlooking the plains about Brandy Station. As 



212 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

the war was prolonged, Confederate rations pro- 
portionately diminished, both in quantity and 
variety. Consequently, to escape the pangs of hun- 
ger, the few opportunities that presented themselves 
were gladly seized. In the absence of the sports- 
men of peace times, game had become quite abund- 
ant, especially quail. But our "murmurings," if 
any there were, did not avail, as did those of the 
Israelites, "to fill the camp." I soon succeeded in 
getting an Enfield rifle, a gun not designed for such 
small game. By beating Minie-balls out flat, then 
cutting the plates into square blocks or slugs, I pre- 
pared my ammunition, and in the first eleven shots 
killed nine quail on the wing. I was shooting for 
the pot, and shot to kill. 

From this camp our battery was ordered to occupy 
a fort on the west side of the river, near Rappahan- 
nock Station. Immediately across the river Hayes's 
and Hoke's brigades of Early's division occupied a 
line of breastworks as a picket or outpost. A pon- 
toon bridge (a bridge of boats), in place of the rail- 
road bridge, which had been burned, served as a 
crossing. While a dozen or more of our battery 
were a mile in the rear of the fort, getting a supply 
of firewood, another member of the company came 
to us at a gallop, with orders to return as quickly 
as possible to the fort. On our arrival the indica- 
tions of an attack from the enemy were very appar- 
ent. They must have anticipated immense slaughter, 
as no less than a hundred of their ambulances were 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 213 

plainly visible. About four p. m. they opened on us 
with artillery, and from that time until sundown 
a spirited contest w^as kept up. While this was in 
progress their infantry advanced, but, after a brief 
but rapid fire of musketry, almost perfect quiet was 
restored. 

While working at my gun I received what I 
thought to be a violent kick on the calf of my leg, 
but, turning to discover whence the blow came, saw 
a Minie-ball spinning on the ground. It was very 
painful for a time, but did not interrupt my service 
at the gun. It was too dark for us to see what was 
going on across the river, but the sudden and com- 
plete stillness following the firing was very mys- 
terious. While speculating among ourselves as to 
what it meant, a half-naked infantryman came 
almost breathless into our midst and announced that 
both brigades had been captured, he having escaped 
by swimming the river. One of our lieutenants re- 
fused to believe his statement and did the worthy 
fellow cruel injustice in accusing him of skulking. 
That his story was true soon became evident. Our 
situation was now extremely dangerous, as the Fed- 
erals had only to cross on the pontoon bridge a hun- 
dred yards from the fort and ''gobble us up." About 
nine o'clock General Early, with his other two bri- 
gades, arrived. After acquainting himself with the 
surrounding conditions, he asked our batterymen 
for a volunteer to burn the bridge. To accomplish 
this would involve extreme danger, as the moment 



214 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

a light was struck for the purpose a hundred shots 
could be expected from the opposite end, not more 
than seventy-five yards away. However, Wilham 
Effinger, of Harrisonburg, Virginia, one of our can- 
noneers, promptly volunteered to undertake it; and 
soon had the bridge in flames, the enemy not firing 
a shot. For this gallant and daring act, Efiinger, 
after a long time, received a Heutenant's commis- 
sion and was assigned to another branch of the ser- 
vice. 

From this perilous situation we came off surpris- 
ingly well, but lost Robert Bell, of Winchester, Vir- 
ginia. He was struck by a large piece of shell, 
which passed through his body. During the hour he 
survived, his companions who could leave their posts 
went to say good-by. He was a bra^•e sokHer and a 
modest, unassuming gentleman as well. The Fed- 
erals, satisfied with the capture of the two celebrated 
brigades without loss to themselves, withdrew — and 
again we returned to the vicinity of Brandy Station. 

In an artillery company two sentinels are kept on 
post — one to see after the guns and ammunition, 
the other to catch and tie loose horses or extricate 
them when tangled in their halters, and the like. 
Merrick's name and mine, being together on the roll, 
we were frequently on guard at the same time, and, 
to while away the tedious hours of the night, would 
seek each other's company. Our turn came while in 
this camp one dark, chilly night ; the rain falling fast 
and the wind moaning through the leafless woods. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 215 

As we stood near a fitful fire, Merrick, apparently 
becoming oblivious of the dismal surroundings, be- 
gan to sing. He played the role of a lover serenad- 
ing his sweetheart, opening with some lively air to 
attract her attention. The pattering of the rain he 
construed as her tread to the lattice; then poured 
forth his soul in deepest pathos, "Hear me, Nomia, 
in pity hear me!" (the progress of his suit being in- 
terpreted, aside, to me), and again fixed his gaze on 
the imaginary window. Each sound made by the 
storm he explained as some recognition; the creak- 
ing of a bent tree was the gentle opening of the case- 
ment, and the timely falling of a bough broken by 
the wind was a bouquet thrown to his eager grasp, 
over which he went into raptures. Whether the in- 
spiration was due to a taste of some stimulant or to 
his recurring moods of intense imagination, I could 
not say, but the performance was genuinely artistic. 
During the last night of our sojourn in this camp 
I had another experience of as fully absorbing in- 
terest. A very tough piece of beef (instead of quail) 
for supper proved more than my digestive organs 
could stand. After retiring to my bunk several 
sleepless hours passed wrestling with my burden. 
About one o'clock, the struggle being over, with an 
intense feeling of comfort I was falling into a sound 
sleep when I heard, in the distance, the shrill note of 
a bugle, then another and another, as camp after 
camp was invaded by urgent couriers ; then our own 
bugle took up the alarm and sounded the call to hitch 



216 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

up. Meantime, drums were rolling, till the hitherto 
stillness of night had become a din of noise. We 
packed up and pulled out through the woods in the 
dark, with gun No. 1, to w^hich I belonged, the rear 
one of the battery. A small bridge, spanning a ditch 
about five feet deep, had been passed over safely by 
the other guns and caissons in front, but when my 
gun-carriage was midway on it the whole structure 
collapsed. The struggle the detachment of men and 
horses underwent during the rest of this night of 
travail constituted still another feature of the vicissi- 
tudes of "merry war." Fortunately for us, Lieut. 
Jack Jordan was in charge, and, as Rockbridge men 
can testify, any physical difficulty that could not be 
successfully overcome by a Jordan, where men and 
horses were involved, might well be despaired of. 

After reaching the Rapidan, a day was spent 
skirmishing with the enemy's artillery on the hills 
beyond. After which both sides withdrew — we to 
our former camps. 

A short time thereafter I called on my old friends 
of the College company, whom we seldom met since 
our severance from the Stonewall Brigade. Two of 
these college boys, Ted ford Barclay and George 
Chapin, told me that a recent provision had been 
announced, to the effect that a commission would be 
granted to any private who should perform some act 
of conspicuous gallantry in battle, and they had each 
resolved to earn the offered reward, and to be pri- 
vates no longer. They were tired of carrying musk- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 217 

ets and cartridge-boxes; and, in the next fight, as 
they expressed it, they had determined to be "dis- 
tinguished or extinguished." 

The determined manner with which it was said 
impressed me, so that I awaited results with interest. 
A fortnight had not elapsed before their opportunity 
came, and they proved true to their resolve. Under 
a galling fire their regiment hesitated to advance, 
when the two lads pushed to the front of the line of 
battle and climbed an intervening fence. Chapin 
was killed, and Barclay, who survives to this day, 
received for his daring courage the promised com- 
mission as lieutenant. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

BATTLE OF MINE RUN MARCH TO FREDERICK'S 

HALL WINTER-QUARTERS SOCIAL AFFAIRS 

AGAIN TO THE FRONT NARROW ESCAPE FROM 

CAPTURE BY GENERAL DAHLGREN FURLOUGHS 

CADETS RETURN FROM NEW MARKET SPOTT- 

SYLVANIA AND THE WILDERNESS RETURN TO 

ARMY AT HANOVER JUNCTION PANIC AT 

NIGHT 

The movement in which we were next engaged 
included the battle of Mine Run, which has been 
designated by a mihtary critic as "a campaign of 
strategy," an account of which is, therefore, not 
within my province. The Federals on this occasion 
did most of the marching and, after crossing the 
Rapidan at several different fords, were confronted 
not far from our quarters at Mine Run, in Orange 
County. After breaking camp our first intimation 
that a battle was expected was the invariable pro- 
fusion of playing-cards along the road. I never saw 
or heard of a Bible or prayer-book being cast aside 
at such a time, but cards were always thrown away 
by soldiers going into battle. 

After a spirited engagement between Johnson's 
division and Warren's corps, the Federals lost time 
sufficient for the Confederates to construct a for- 

218 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 219 

midable line of breastworks. The position occupied 
by our battery was in the midst of a brigade of 
North Carohnians who had seen some service in 
their own State, but had never participated in a real 
battle. From a Federal shell, which burst some dis- 
tance overhead, a thin piece twirled downward and 
fell like a leaf within a few feet of our gun. I saw 
one of their lieutenants, who was lying in the trench, 
eye it suspiciously, then creep out and pick it up. . 
Presently the colonel of his regiment passed along 
and the lieutenant said, as he held up the trophy, 
"Colonel, just look at this. I was lying right here, 
and it fell right there." This brigade had no occa- 
sion to test its mettle until the following spring, but 
then, in the great battle of Spottsylvania, it fought 
gallantly and lost its general (Wright), who was 
killed. 

Naturally, after such a determined advance on 
the part of the Federals, a general attack was ex- 
pected ; but, after spending two days threatening 
different portions of our lines, they withdrew in the 
night, leaving only men sufficient to keep their camp- 
fires burning for a time, as a ruse. The road along 
which we followed them for some miles was strewn 
at intervals with feathers from the beds of the peo- 
ple whose houses they had ransacked. 

It was now October, and the chilly autumn nights 
suggested retiring to more comfortable surround- 
ings. Our battalion of artillery was ordered to 
Frederick's Hall, on the Chesapeake and Ohio Rail- 



220 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

road, about fifty miles from Richmond. In this 
neighborhood there were quite a number of nice peo- 
ple, whose society and hospitality afforded those of 
us so inclined much agreeable entertainment. A 
white paper-collar became no unusual sight, but when 
two of our members appeared one afternoon adorned 
with blue cravats a sensation was created. 

A member of our battery returned from a visit to 
a family of former acquaintances some twelve miles 
from camp, and brought an invitation for some of 
his friends to accompany him on his next visit. Soon 
thereafter four of us went, through a drizzling rain, 
I riding a blind horse, the others on foot. Night 
overtook us soon after leaving camp, and when, 
within a mile of our destination, we asked at a house 
by the roadside for directions as to the way, a gruff 
voice informed us that an intervening creek was too 
high to cross, and insisted on our coming in and 
spending the night. We declined this, and the man 
said, "Well, I'll send a negro boy with you; but 
you'll have to come back," which proved to be the 
case. On our return we were boisterously welcomed. 
A blazing fire of dry pine soon lit up the room, with 
its clean, bare floor, and disclosed the figure of our 
host — Peter Johnson by name — a stout, burly man, 
clad in homespun and a fur cap. He said his wife 
and children had been "a-bed" since dark, were tired 
of his jokes, and that he was delighted to have a 
fresh audience ; that it was past supper-time and 
some hours before breakfast, but that fasting was 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 221 

nothing new to Confederate soldiers. The names of 
two of our party, McCorkle and McClintic, he said, 
were too long and that he would call them Cockle and 
Flint, but before proceeding further he would give 
us some music. Forthwith he produced a short flute, 
took a seat on the foot of the stairs (in the far cor- 
ner of the room), and played "The Devil's Dream," 
"The Arkansas Traveler," etc., beating time with 
his foot. 

Here we passed the night in comfortable beds and, 
after a bountiful breakfast, left with a pressing in- 
vitation to return for a rabbit-chase with his hounds, 
which we gladly accepted and afterward enjoyed. 
This was typical of eastern Virginia and her hos- 
pitable, whole-souled "Tuckahoes," whose houses 
were never too full for them to hail a passer-by and 
compel him to come in. This interruption detracted 
nothing from the pleasure of the visit for which we 
had originally set out. 

A short time after our return to Frederick's Hall 
our whole artillery command narrowly escaped cap- 
ture by a band of cavalry raiders under command of 
Colonel Dahlgren. About fifty of the cannoneers 
of the battalion had been furnished with muskets 
and regularly exercised in the infantry drill. When 
the raiders arrived within a mile of our winter-quar- 
ters they inquired of the country people as to the 
character of troops occupying our camp, and were 
informed by some negroes that the "men had musk- 
ets with bayonets on them." As infantry was not 



222 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

what they were seeking, they gave us the go-by and 
passed on toward Richmond, the capture of which 
was the chief object of the expedition. In the attack 
on Richmond, which occurred in the night, Dahlgren 
was killed and his command defeated with heavy 
loss. 

Encouraged by the visit already mentioned, I ac- 
companied my friend, Tom Williamson, on a visit by 
rail to his relations, the Garnetts, near Hanover 
Junction; thence, after spending the night, to some 
friends in Caroline County. On our return to camp 
we found preparations on foot for a move to the 
front, and although we left camp by eleven o'clock 
that night not more than three or four miles was 
traveled by daylight. In the darkness one of our 
twenty-pounders went over a thirty- foot embank- 
ment, carrying the drivers and eight horses into the 
mud and water at its base. 

While on the march later in the day, to save dis- 
tance, I undertook to pass near a house, in the yard 
of which were two men with a large Newfoundland 
dog. A smaller dog, chained to the corner of the 
house, broke loose as I passed and viciously seized 
the tail of my overcoat. Instantly, to my dismay, 
the large dog left the men and dashed straight for 
me ; but, instead of rending me, knocked my assail- 
ant heels over head and held him down until secured 
by the men and chained. 

Before reaching the front, it was learned that we 
had been called out on a false alarm. Our return to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 223 

Frederick's Hall was by a more circuitous route, 
near which was an establishment where apple-brandy 
was for sale. The stock had been heavily watered 
and the price of shares (in a drink), even then, too 
far above par for eleven dollars a month to afford 
scarcely more than a smell. However, after reach- 
ing camp, more than ordinary wrestling and testing 
of strength were indulged in. 

Two years had elapsed since any furloughs had 
been given, except to the sick and wounded. The 
granting of them was now revived, and those who 
had been longest from home were, of course, to be 
served first. My turn came in March. I shall never 
forget the impression made on me as I sat at the 
supper-table at home, on the evening of my arrival. 
My father, mother, sisters, and little niece, Bessie 
Nelson, were present. The last named, who had 
formerly treated me as scarcely an equal, now eyed 
me with even some degree of reverence. 

After the noise, loud talking, etc., in camp, 
the quiet was painful. It was just as it had always 
been, except the vacant places of the boys at the 
front; still, I felt that something was wrong. Equally 
as impressive was the mild diet of cold bread, milk, 
and weak-looking tea. The effect was the same as 
that produced by a sudden transition from a low to 
a high altitude, or vice versa, requiring time for 
adaptation, as I soon experienced. My fifteen days' 
leave of absence having expired, I returned to camp. 

To induce the boys who were under age, and still 



224 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

at home, to enlist, a thirty-day furlough was offered 
to every soldier who would secure a recruit for the 
service. By this means many boys of only fifteen 
or sixteen years joined the army, to enable a long- 
absent kinsman to get home. McClintic, of my mess, 
got this furlough by the enlistment of his brother, 
and while at home drummed up the son of a neigh- 
bor, William Barger, whom he brought back with 
him to repeat the operation. To allowing this sec- 
ond furlough the authorities, right or wrong, ob- 
jected. The matter was compromised by McClintic 
very generously assigning the young recruit to my 
credit, by which I got the furlough. 

Before my return to the army, at the expiration 
of the thirty days, the Grant campaign had opened 
and the great battles of the Wilderness and Spottsyl- 
vania had been fought. Our battery had escaped 
without serious loss, as the character of the country 
afforded little opportunity for the use of artillery. 
From Staunton I traveled on a freight train with the 
cadets of the Virginia Military Institute and their 
professors, who were now the conspicuous heroes 
of the hour, having just won immortal fame in their 
charge, on May 15, at New Market. Among the 
professors was my friend and former messmate, 
Frank Preston, with an empty sleeve, now captain 
of a cadet company, and Henry A. Wise, Jr., who 
took command of the cadets after the wounding of 
Colonel Shipp, their commandant. 

Our army was now near Hano^'er Junction, twen- 





^^'ILLIAM McClIXTTC 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 225 

ty-five miles from Richmond, and engaged in its 
death struggle with Grant's countless legions. If 
any one period of the four years of the war were to 
be selected as an example of Southern endurance 
and valor, it probably should be the campaign from 
the Wilderness, beginning May 5 and closing a 
month later at Petersburg, in which the Confederate 
army, numbering 64,000 half-clothed, half-fed men, 
successfully resisted a splendidly equipped army of 
140,000— inflicting a loss of 60,000 killed and 
wounded. 

Any account or record of a war which failed to 
at least make mention of the events in that war 
which towered above all others, and which immortal- 
ized the immediate actors and shed luster on the 
whole army, would be incomplete. I therefore take 
pride in paying tribute to those men who on three 
separate occasions in the campaign, then in progress, 
displayed a species of valor and sublime conduct, the 
parallel of which is recorded nozvhere else in history. 
The events referred to were : First, on the morn- 
ing of May 6, when our lines had been broken by 
the tremendous assaults of the enemy and to restore 
them. General Lee undertook in person to lead Gen- 
eral Gregg's brigade of Texans in the charge. When 
the order to advance was given, these men, who had 
never before even paused to obey, now stood motion- 
less as if some strange spell had come over them, 
too modest, at first, to explain the cause of their 
refusal, till one of their number made bold to call 



226 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

out, "General Lee to the rear," which was at once 
repeated from a hundred throats. Then yielding to 
the appeals of men and officers not to expose his life, 
the Texas brigade moved forward as one man. 

Again on May 10th a similar emergency calling 
General Lee to the breach, two regiments, one of 
Georgians and one of Virginians, the Forty-ninth 
Virginia, refused, as did the Texans, to heed the 
command "Forward," until General Lee had con- 
sented to withdraw, then the line advanced. 

Two such events are sufficient to establish the claim 
made, but as evidence that they were not the prompt- 
ings of some sudden and passing impulse, two days 
thereafter, on May 12th, a band of Mississippians 
repeated the scene. Since every nation holds some 
particular display of fortitude and valor on the part 
of its soldiers, as its peculiar heritage, so we of the 
South should offer these exhibitions of dauntless and 
sublime heroism. 

The English have the charge at Balaklava. the 
French the heroism of "The Old Guard," the Spar- 
tans their Thermopylae, the Romans their Marcus 
Curtius. It required the pen of a Homer to paint 
the feats of valor of a Hector or an Achilles as they 
advanced to join in single combat amid the plaudits 
of admiring gods and men ; the inspired language of 
Holy Writ to thrill us with the valor of a David in 
his contest with the Giant. But we are told also 
what there was to impel him, that when in obedience 
to the Divine call, he joined his people, who day after 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 227 

day had been cowering under the derisive taunts of 
their adversaries; that there was a promise from 
King Saul that whoever would vanquish this lusty- 
giant would be rewarded with the hand of the king's 
daughter, and then to awaken all the courage he 
could muster he was asked in contempt by his elder 
brother, "With whom hast thou left those fezv sheep 
in the wilderness ?" So when he advanced with his 
five smooth pebbles "from out the brook" there was 
nothing lacking to nerve his whole being. 

Returning to our examples of valor, the surround- 
ing's of these Southerners must also be taken into 
account. As already stated, in every other instance 
in which men have displayed exalted heroism and 
won immortal fame, it requires but little considera- 
tion to see that none possessed the element that ani- 
mated these men of the South. In some instances the 
others were led by some renowned chieftain, whom 
they felt it a credit to follozv, as the grenadiers fol- 
lowed Napoleon at the Bridge of Lodi. 

Others had their courage inspired and pride in- 
voked by a contest with a single adversary, but in the 
case of the Southern men all of these elements were 
wanting. Then, too, the Northern men, whom they 
were now confronting, were the seasoned veterans of 
all the armies that had been brought against them in 
campaign after campaign and had proven themselves 
formidable antagonists, and equipped, too, with 
every advantage known to military science, while 
their own equipment was almost the reverse. 



228 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

In each of the three cases under consideration, the 
Confederate hnes had been broken and overrun by 
overwhelming numbers and were now held by the 
victors exulting in their success. Then the physical 
condition of the Southern men must not be over- 
looked. For some days there had scarcely been a 
lull in the fighting. The small portions of the pre- 
ceding nights devoted to rest had been passed with 
their arms and accoutrements about them, and when 
roused from sleep scant time was given to swallow 
their rations. Then amid the surroundings of a 
gloomy forest they moved forward among the 
wounded and over the dead bodies of their comrades. 
So if ever environment was such as to allay enthu- 
siasm, surely it was found here. 

The following extract from a letter written by 
Colonel Poague to his father, when these scenes had 
just transpired, will be of interest: 

"Line of battle on Hanover C. H. Road, 

"10 miles from Richmond, 

"June 1st, 1864. 



EXTRACT 

"1 will take this occasion to relate an incident or 
two illustrating the feeling our soldiers have for 
General Lee. On the morning of the 6th of May, 
when the enemy had gained some advantage over 
our troops on the plank road in the wilderness and 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 229 

were pressing our men back, Longstreet's troops 
came up and were hastily formed in line of battle, 
and as the famous Texas Brigade started forward, 
passing right through my guns, General Lee rode 
along with it with head uncovered. This spectacle 
wrought our troops up to the highest pitch of en- 
thusiasm. But they did not forget that their beloved 
General was thus greatly exposing himself, and the 
whole line called out, *Go back! Go back. General 
Lee ! ;' and finally they told him they would not fire 
a gun unless he went back. Entreated thus by his 
troops and implored by members of his staff, he was 
prevailed on to withdraw to a place less exposed. 
How the old General's heart must have swelled at 
this display of filial regard and tender solicitude 
by his veterans under such circumstances! Again 
at Spottsylvania General Lee was at the position 
occupied by my battalion, when the Yankee batteries 
opened most furiously on the place, as if conscious 
of the whereabouts of their great antagonist. A 
great big impulsive fellow, private Shirley of Utter- 
bach's battery, becoming uneasy for the safety of 
the General, politely but earnestly invited him to 
take a seat in the gunpit. The General in his polite 
and pleasant way declined. Presently a shell struck 
very near, covering the General with dirt. Shirley 
could stand it no longer, but springing forward 
seized him by the hand and besought him to take a 
seat in the pit and did almost drag General Lee to a 
place where he was less exposed. These little inci- 



230 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

dents will serve to show how General Lee's boys 
value him and love him. I would not have missed 
that scene on the plank road for a good deal. But 
here is an order to move. ..... 

"Your affectionate son, 

"W. T. POAGUE.^^ 

The distinctive features demonstrated on those 
occasions were : First, General Lee's attitude as he 
put himself at the head of his men. Then the spirit 
which animated these men in refusing to allow him 
to expose his life, and, above all, that it required not 
even the example of a Lee to encourage them to lay 
down their lives in the performance of duty. 

The South to do honor to itself, and to the mem- 
ory of these men, should erect a monument which 
in majesty of proportion and design should have 
but one competitor, and that one to the mothers 
and wives in the South, whose self-sacrifice, patience 
and devotion rendered such deeds of valor only 
natural. 

Much has been said and written concerning the 
comparative equipment, etc., of the two armies. A 
striking reference to it I heard in a conversation at 
General Lee's home in Lexington after the war. Of 
the students who attended Washington College dur- 
ing his presidency he always requested a visit to 
himself whenever they returned to the town. With 
this request they were very ready to comply. While 
performing this pleasant duty one evening, during 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 231 

a visit to my old home in Lexington, Mrs. Lee, sit- 
ting in her invahd-chair, was discoursing to me, 
feehngly, on the striking contrast between the rag- 
ged clothing worn by Confederate soldiers as com- 
pared with that worn by the Federals, as she had 
seen the Federal troops entering Richmond after its 
evacuation. The General, who was pacing the floor, 
paused for a moment, his eye lighting up, and, at 
the conclusion of her remarks, said, as he inclined 
forward with that superb grace, "But, ah ! Mistress 
Lee, we gave them some awfully hard knocks, with 
all of our rags !" 

After parting with my cadet friends at Hanover 
Junction, soon after day-dawn, I readily found our 
battery bivouacking in sight of the station. Some of 
the men were lying asleep; those who had risen 
seemed not yet fully awake. All looked ten years 
older than when I had bidden them good-by a month 
before — hollow-eyed, unwashed, jaded, and hun- 
gry; paper-collars and blue neckties shed and for- 
gotten. The contents of my basket (boxes were 
now obsolete), consisting of pies, sweetened with 
sorghum molasses, and other such edibles, were 
soon devoured, and I reported "returned for duty." 
In a few hours we were on the road to Richmond, 
with the prospect of another sojourn in the sur- 
rounding swamps. 

On the night of June 1 our battery was biv- 
ouacked in the edge of a dense piece of woods, the 
guns being parked in open ground just outside, 



232 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

while the men were lying in the leaves, with the 
horses tied among them. About midnight one of 
the horses became tangled in his halter and fell to 
the ground, struggling and kicking frantically to 
free himself. A man close by, being startled from 
sleep, began halloaing, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The 
alarm was taken up by one after another as each 
roused from slumber, increasing and spreading the 
noise and confusion; by this time the horses had 
joined in, pawing and snorting in terror, complet- 
ing the reign of pandemonium. As darkness pre- 
vented successful running, some of the men climbed 
trees or clung to them for protection, while the sen- 
tinel over the guns in the open broke from his beat, 
supposing Grant's cavalry was upon us. In a space 
of two minutes all suddenly became still, the climbers 
stealthily slid from their trees, and others gingerly 
picked their way back to their lairs, "ashamed as 
men who flee in battle." For some time, as the 
cause and absurdity of the incident was realized, 
there issued now and then from a pile of leaves a 
chuckle of suppressed laughter. 



CHAPTER XXV 

SECOND COLD HARBOR WOUNDED RETURN HOME 

REFUGEEING FROM HUNTER 

After spending the following day and night in 
''Camp Panic," we moved forward early on the 
morning of June 3 to the field of the memorable 
second Cold Harbor. Minie-balls were rapping 
against the trees as we drove through a copse of 
small timber to occupy a temporary redoubt in the 
line of breastworks beyond. While the guns halted 
briefly before driving in to unlimber, I walked for- 
ward to see what was in front. The moment I came 
into view a Minie-ball sung by my head and passed 
through the clothes of the cannoneer, Barton Mc- 
Crum, who was a few steps from me, suggesting to 
both of us to lie low until called for as videttes. 
Perched in the tops of the trees beyond the half- 
mile of open field in our front, the enemy's sharp- 
shooters, with telescope sights on their rifles, blazed 
away at every moving object along our line. It was 
noon before their artillery opened on us, and, in the 
firing which ensued, a large barn a hundred yards 
in our front was set on fire by a shell and burned to 

the ground. 

An hour or two later, during this brisk can- 
nonade, I, being No. 3, stood with my thumb on the 
vent as the gun was being loaded. From a shell 

233 



234 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

which exploded a few yards in front I was struck 
on the breast by the butt-end, weighing not less than 
three pounds, and at the same time by a smaller 
piece on the thigh. After writhing for a time I was 
accompanied to our surgeon in the rear. The brass 
button on my jacket, which I still have as a me- 
mento, was cut almost in two and the shirt button 
underneath driven to the breast-bone, besides other 
smaller gashes. A large contusion was made by the 
blow on my thigh, and my clothing was very much 
torn. After my wounds had been dressed I passed 
the night at the quarters of my friend and fellow- 
townsman, Capt. Charles Estill, of the Ordnance 
Department, who already had in charge his brother 
Jack, wounded in a cavalry engagement the day be- 
fore. 

An hour after dark, as I sat by the light of a 
camp-fire, enjoying the relief and rest, as well as 
the agreeable company of old friends, the rattle of 
musketry two miles away had gradually increased 
into the proportions of a fierce battle. The feelings 
of one honorably out of such a conflict, but listen- 
ing in perfect security, may be better imagined than 
described. This, like a curfew bell, signaled the 
close of a day of frightful and probably unparal- 
leled carnage. Within the space of a single hour 
in the forenoon the Federal army had been three 
times repulsed with a loss of thirteen thousand men 
killed and wounded; after which their troops firmly 
refused to submit themselves to further butcherv- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 235 

This statement is made on the evidence of Northern 
historians. 

After a night's rest I was sent to Richmond, 
where I received a transfer to a hospital in Staun- 
ton. Sheridan's cavalry having interrupted travel 
over the Virginia Central Railroad, I went by rail 
to Lynchburg, via the Southside Road, with Cap- 
tain Semmes and eight or ten cadets on their return 
to Lexington with artillery horses pressed into ser- 
vice. Learning, in Lynchburg, that Hunter's army 
was near Staunton, I continued with the cadets, rid- 
ing one of their artillery horses, but was too much 
exhausted to proceed far, and stopped for the night 
on the way. Here I learned from refugees that 
Hunter was advancing toward Lexington. As the 
whole country seemed now to be overrun by the 
Federals, to avoid them was very difficult. 

I resumed my journey toward home, frequently 
meeting acquaintances who were seeking safety 
elsewhere. When within four or five miles of the 
town, while ascending a long hill, I heard the sound 
of a drum and fife not far ahead. Presently I 
recognized the tune played to be "Yankee Doodle." 
I could not believe it to be the vanguard of Hunter's 
army, but what on earth could it be ? However, at 
the top of the hill I saw a train of refugee wagons 
preceded by two negroes who were making the 
music. 

I remained at home only a day and a night, at 
the expiration of which time General McCausland 



236 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

(the first captain of our battery) with his brigade 
of cavalry was within a mile of town, closely pur- 
sued by Hunter's whole army. I spent half of the 
night assisting my mother and the servants (our 
slaves) to conceal from the marauders what flour, 
bacon, etc., the family still had; and before sunrise 
the next morning set out, mounted on my father's 
horse, for a safer place. By this time my wounds 
had become very painful, and my leg had turned a 
dark-blue color from the thigh to the knee. 

A brief account of my experience while refugee- 
ing may be of interest, as it will give an idea of the 
horror with which our non-combatants regarded the 
invasion of their homes by our fellow-countrymen 
of the North, who had now resorted to fire, after 
learning by bitter experience that the sword alone 
could not restore us to the blessings of the Union. 

My destination was the home of my aunt, Mrs. 
Allen, forty miles distant, in Bedford County. After 
passing through the gap between the two peaks of 
Otter, I reached my aunt's and found there three 
officers from Louisiana recovering from wounds. 
After a respite of two days one of the officers, on 
his return from a neighbor's, brought information 
that McCausland's command was approaching 
through the mountain-pass, with Hunter in close 
pursuit. In a few hours our house of refuge was 
overrun by McCausland's hungry soldiers. Again 
I went through the process of helping to hide valu- 
ables and packing up what was to be hauled away. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 237 

I started at dawn next morning with the officers, 
leaving my aunt and her three daughters very for- 
lorn and unprotected. When I left she gave me the 
pistol which her son Robert, colonel of the Twenty- 
eighth Virginia Regiment, was wearing when he 
fell in Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. In our care 
were the loaded wagons, negro men, lowing cows, 
and bleating sheep. 

That afternoon, after exchanging my gray for 
a fleet-footed cavalry horse ridden by one of the 
officers, I rode back from our place of hiding, some 
miles south of Liberty, to reconnoiter; but, after 
passing through the town, met General McCausland 
at the head of his brigade falling back toward 
Lynchburg, and rode back a short distance with 
him to return to my party of refugees, who mean- 
time had moved farther on. Next day I stopped 
at a house by the wayside to get dinner, and had 
just taken my seat at the table when there arose a 
great commotion outside, with cries of "Yankee 
cavalry! Yankee cavalry!" Stepping to the door, 
I saw a stream of terrified school-children crying 
as they ran by, and refugees flying for the woods. 
In a moment I was on my fleet-footed dun, not tak- 
ing time to pick up a biscuit of my untasted dinner 
nor the pillow worn between my crippled leg and the 
saddle, and joined in the flight. I had noticed a 
yearling colt in the yard of the house as I entered, 
and in five minutes after I started a twelve-year-old 
boy mounted on the little thing, barebacked, shot 



238 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

by me with the speed of a greyhound. A hundred 
yards farther on I overtook some refugee wagons 
from about Lexington, whose owners had left them 
on the road and betaken themselves to the woods ; 
but there still stood by them a mulatto man of our 
town — Lindsay Reid by name — who indignantly 
refused to be routed, and was doing his utmost, 
with voice and example, to stem the tide, saying, 
"It is a shame to fear anything ; let's stand and give 
them a fight !" 

A moment later a negro boy rode by at a gallop 
in the direction from which the alarm came. In 
reply to the inquiry as to where he was going, he 
called out, "After Marse Wilham." Relying on 
him as a picket, I remained in view of the road. In 
ten minutes he appeared, returning at full speed, 
and called out to me, as he rode up, that he had 
"run almost into them." They were close behind, 
and I must "fly or be caught." I was well along- 
side of him as he finished the warning, and for half 
a mile our horses ran neck and neck. He said he 
would take me to his old master's, an out-of-the-way 
place, several miles distant. Arriving there, a nice 
country house and very secluded, I concealed my 
horse in the woods as best I could and went to the 
house, where I was welcomed and cared for by two 
young ladies and their aged father, Mr. Hurt, who 
was blind. I was now much exhausted, and determ- 
ined to take a rest, with the chances of being cap- 
tured. The occasion of the alarm was a body of 




Robert Frazek 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 239 

Federal cavalry which had been sent on a raid to 
meet Hunter's army, advancing on Lynchburg. 

After two days in this quiet abode I set out to 
make my way past the rear of Hunter's army and 
eventually to reach home. On the way to Liberty 
I was informed that a train of Hunter's wagons 
and many negroes, under a cavalry escort, were then 
passing northward through the town. To satisfy 
myself (being again mounted on my father's gray) 
I rode to the top of the hill overlooking the place. 
Then a strikingly pretty young lady of about six- 
teen, bareheaded (although it was not then the 
fashion), and almost out of breath, who had seen 
me coming into danger, ran to meet me and called, 
"For God's sake, fly ; the town is full of Yankees !" 
Many years after the war a lady friend of Norfolk, 
Virginia, who was refugeeing in Liberty at the 
time, told me that she had witnessed the incident, 
and said that the girl who had run out to warn me 
had afterward married a Federal officer. I then 
went around the town and crossed the road a mile 
west of it, learning that the wagon-train, etc., had 
all passed. 

From this place on, throughout the territory 
over which this patriotic army had operated, were 
the desolated homes of helpless people, stripped of 
every valuable they possessed, and outraged at the 
wanton destruction of their property, scarcely 
knowing how to repair the damage or to take up 
ae-ain their broken fortunes. Night had now fallen, 



240 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

but a bright moon rather added to the risks of con- 
tinuing my journey. An old negro man, however, 
kindly agreed to pilot me through fields and woods, 
avoiding the highways, "as far as Colonel Nichols' " 
(his master's). When near his destination he went 
ahead to reconnoiter, and soon returned from the 
house, accompanied by one of the ladies, who told 
me that their house and premises had been overrun 
by Yankees all day, and that some of them were 
still prowling about, and, in her fright, pointed to 
each bush as an armed foe. 

Camp-fires still burning enabled me to steer clear 
of the road, but it was midnight when I reached my 
aunt's, and, going to the negro cabin farthest from 
her dwelling, I succeeded, after a long time, in get- 
ting "Uncle" Mose to venture out of his door. He 
said he thought the Yankees were all gone, but to 
wait till he crept up to the house and let "Ole Miss" 
know I was about. He reported the way clear, and 
I was soon in the side porch. After the inmates 
were satisfied as to my identity, the door was opened 
just enough for me to squeeze through. The family, 
consisting of females, including the overseer's wife, 
who had come for protection, quietly collected in 
the sitting-room, where a tallow candle, placed not 
to attract attention from outside, shed a dim light 
over my ghost-like companions clad in their night- 
dresses. The younger ladies were almost hysterical, 
and all looked as if they had passed through a fear- 
ful storm at sea, as various experiences were re- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 241 

counted. The house had been ransacked from gar- 
ret to cellar, and what could not be devoured or car- 
ried off was scattered about, and such things as 
sugar, vinegar, flour, salt, etc., conglomerately 
mixed. The only food that escaped was what the 
negroes had in their cabins, and this they freely 
divided with the whites. 

The next day I concealed myself and horse in 
the woods, and was lying half-asleep when I heard 
footsteps stealthily approaching through the leaves. 
Presently a half -grown negro, carrying a small bas- 
ket, stumbled almost on me. He drew back, startled 
at my question, "What do you want?" and replied, 
"Nothin' ; I jus' gwine take 'Uncle' Mose he din- 
ner. He workin' in de fiel' over yander." My din- 
ner was to be sent by a boy named Phil, so I said, 
"Is that you, Phil?" "Lordy! Is that you, Marse 
Eddie? I though you was a Yankee! Yas, dis is 
me, and here's yer dinner I done brung yer." Phil, 
who belonged to my aunt, had run off several weeks 
before, but of his own accord had returned the 
preceding day, and this was our first meeting. 

As Hunter's army was still threatening Lynch- 
burg, to avoid the scouting-parties scouring the 
country in his rear I set out on Sunday morning to 
make my way back to Lexington by Peteet's Gap. 
I was scarcely out of sight — in fact one of my 
cousins, as I learned afterward, ran to the porch to 
assure herself that I was gone — when twenty-five 
or thirty Federal cavalry, accompanied by a large, 



242 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

black dog, and guided by one of my aunt's negroes 
armed and dressed in Federal uniform, galloped into 
the yard and searched the house for "rebel soldiers." 
Passing through the Federal camp-ground, from 
among the numerous household articles, etc., I 
picked up a book, on the fly-leaf of which was writ- 
ten, "Captured at Washington College, Lexington, 
Rockingham County, Virginia." That afternoon, 
as I was slowly toiling up the steep mountain path 
almost overgrown with ferns, I was stopped by an 
old, white-bearded mountaineer at a small gate 
which he held open for me. While asking for the 
news, after I had dismounted, he noticed the split 
button on my coat and my torn trousers, and, paus- 
ing for a moment, he said, very solemnly, "Well, 
you ought to be a mighty good young man." I 
asked why he thought so. "Well," said he, "the 
hand of God has certainly been around you." 

That night I spent at Judge Anderson's, in Ar- 
nold's Valley, and the next day reached Lexington 
— a very different Lexington from the one I had left 
a fortnight before. The Virginia Military Insti- 
tute barracks, the professors' houses, and Governor 
Letcher's private home had been burned, and also 
all neighboring mills, etc., while the intervening 
and adjacent grounds were one great desolate com- 
mon. Preparations had also been made to burn 
Washington College, when my father, who was a 
trustee of that institution, called on General Hun- 
ter, and, by explaining that it was endowed by and 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 243 

named in honor of General Washington, finally suc- 
ceeded in preventing its entire destruction, although 
much valuable apparatus, etc., had already been 
destroyed. 

Comparisons are odious, but the contrast between 
the conduct of Northern and Southern soldiers dur- 
ing their invasions of each other's territory is very 
striking and suggestive; especially when taken in 
connection with the fact that the Federal army, from 
first to last, numbered twenty-eight hundred thou- 
sand men, and the Confederates not more than six 
hundred and fifty thousand. 

General Early, with three divisions, having been 
despatched from the army near Richmond, had 
reached Lynchburg in time to prevent its occu- 
pancy by Hunter, who promptly retreated, and his 
army soon became a mass of fugitives, struggling 
through the mountains of West Virginia on to the 
Ohio River. The Confederates at Lynchburg, all 
told, numbered 11,000 men, the Federals 20,000. 

An incident which occurred in Rockbridge 
County, the participants in which were of the "cra- 
dle and grave" classes, deserves mention. Maj. 
Angus McDonald, aged seventy, having four sons 
in our army, set out from Lexington with his four- 
teen-year-old son Harry, refugeeing. They were 
joined, near the Natural Bridge, by Mr. Thomas 
Wilson, a white-haired old man ; and the three de- 
termined to give battle to Hunter's army. From a 
hastily constructed shelter of rails and stones they 



244 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

opened, with shotguns and pistols, on his advance 
guard, but, of course, were quickly overpowered. 
Mr. Wilson was left for dead on the ground, and 
the McDonalds captured. The father was taken to 
a Northern prison, but Harry made his escape by 
night in the mountains, and in turn captured a Fed- 
eral soldier, whom I saw him turn over to the pro- 
vost on his return to Lexington. General Early pur- 
sued Hunter no farther than Botetourt County, and 
thence passed through Lexington on his disastrous 
campaign toward Washington. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

PERSONAL MENTION OF OFFICERS AND MEN ROCK- 
BRIDGE ARTILLERY SECOND ROCKBRIDGE AR- 
TILLERY 

As HAS already been mentioned, the captain under 
whom the battery was mustered into service was the 
Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton, rector of the Episcopal 
Church in Lexington, Virginia, who, after the first 
battle of Manassas, became chief of artillery of the 
Army of Northern Virginia. His only son, Alexan- 
der S. Pendleton, graduated at Washington College 
at the age of 18. He entered the army from the 
University of Virginia at the beginning of the war 
as lieutenant on General Jackson's staff, and rose 
through the various grades of promotion to the 
rank of lieutenant-colonel. After General Jack- 
son's death he continued to fill the position of ad- 
jutant to the succeeding commanders of the corps 
until he fell in battle near Winchester, in 1864. He 
was one of the bravest and most efficient staff offi- 
cers in the Army of Northern Virginia. 

The captains of the battery under whom I served 
were three uncommonly brave and capable officers. 

The first, William McLaughlin, after making an 
enviable record with the company, distinguished 
himself as commander of a battalion of artillery in 
General Early's company in 1864. 

245 



246 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

The second, Captain W. T. Poague, whose repu- 
tation for efficiency and courage won for him the 
command of a battahon of artillery in A. P. Hill's 
corps, was amply equipped with both intelligence 
and valor to have handled an army division with 
credit to himself and advantage to the service. 

The third, Archibald Graham, who was appointed 
a sergeant upon the organization of the company, 
then elected a lieutenant, and for the last two years 
of the war captain, had the distinction of having 
been in every engagement in which the battery took 
part from Hainesville, in 1861, to Appomattox in 
1865. His dreamy, brown eyes kindled most at the 
sound of good music, and where the noise of battle 
was greatest, and shells flew thickest, there Graham 
lingered, as if courting danger. 

Our First Lieut. W. M. Brown, a brave officer, 
wounded and captured at Gettysburg, remained in 
prison from that time until the close of the war. 

Lieut. J. B. McCorkle, a noble fellow and reck- 
lessly brave, was killed at first Fredericksburg. 

As stated in this paper, besides those regularly 
enrolled in the company were men who did more 
or less service with it, but whose names do not ap- 
pear on the roll. For example, Bernard Wolfe, of 
Martinsburg, served in this capacity for a time pre- 
vious to and in the first battle of Manassas, and later 
became major of commissary on General Pendle- 
ton's staff. 

Chapman Maupin, of Charlottesville, son of Pro- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 247 

fessor Maupin, of the University of Virginia, served 
during part of the campaign of 1862, was with the 
battery in several battles, and enlisted afterward 
in the Signal Corps. 

That so many intelligent and educated men from 
outside of Rockbridge were attracted to this com- 
pany was primarily due to the fact that the Rev. 
W. N. Pendleton, its captain until after first Ma- 
nassas, was a graduate of West Point and was 
widely known as a clergyman and educator. After 
his promotion the character of the company itself 
accomplished the same effect. 

Of the names on the roll there were four A. M.'s 
and a score of students of the University of Vir- 
ginia. There were at least twenty graduates of 
Washington College, and as many undergraduates, 
and many graduates and students of other colleges. 

Among the privates in the company was a son 
and namesake of General R. E. Lee, whose presence 
in such a capacity was characteristic of his noble 
father, when it seemed so natural and surely the 
custom to have provided him with a commission. 
That the son should have the instincts and attributes 
of a soldier was not surprising; but, with these in- 
herited gifts, his individuality, in which uniform 
cheerfulness, consideration for others, and enjoy- 
ment of fun were prominent features, won for him 
the esteem and affection of his comrades. When it 
fell to his lot, as a cannoneer, to supply temporarily 
the place of a sick or wounded driver, he handled 



248 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

and cared for his horses as diligently and with as 
much pride as when firing a gun. 

Two sons of Ex-President Tyler, one of whom 
— Gardiner — afterwards represented his district in 
Congress. 

A son of Commodore Porter, of the United 
States Navy. 

Walter and Joseph Packard, descendants of 
Charles Lee, who was a brother of Light-Horse 
Harry Lee. 

The beautiful character of Randolph Fairfax, a 
descendant of Lord Fairfax, who was killed on 
December 13, 1862, on that fatal hill near Fred- 
ericksburg, has been worthily portrayed in a memoir 
by the Rev. Philip Slaughter. More than ten thou- 
sand copies of this memoir were distributed through 
the army at the expense of General Lee, Gen. 
J. E. B. Stuart, and other officers and men, and no 
better idea of the exalted character of young Fair- 
fax can be conveyed, than by extracts copied from 
this little volume : 

" 'Rev. p. Slaughter. 

" 'Dear Sir : Please receive enclosed a contribu- 
tion ($100) to the very laudable work alluded to 
in church by you to-day. It is very desirable to 
place the example of Private Randolph Fairfax be- 
fore every soldier of the army. I am particularly 
desirous that my command should have the advant- 
age of such a Christian light to guide them on their 




Raxdolph Fairfax 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 249 

way. How invincible would an army of such men 

be ! — men who never murmur and who never flinch ! 

" 'Very truly yours, 

" 7. E. B. Stuart/ 

"Berkeley Minor says : 

" 'I knew Randolph Fairfax at the University 
quite well, but not so intimately as I did after he 
joined this company (the Rockbridge Battery). For 
several months before his death I was his messmate 
and bedfellow, and was able to note more fully the 
tone of earnest piety that pervaded his words and 
actions. He was unselfish, modest, and uniformly 
kind and considerate to all. H there was one trait 
in him more striking than others, it was his calm, 
earnest, trustful demeanor in time of battle, result- 
ing, I believe, from his abiding trust in the provi- 
dence and love of God. Many fine young men have 
been removed by death from this company, yet I do 
not think that any has been more deeply lamented 
than he.' 

"Joseph Packard, another of his comrades, 
writes : 

" 'His cheerful courage, his coolness and steadi- 
ness, made him conspicuous in every battlefield. At 
the battle of Malvern Hill, where he had received 
a wound which nine men out of ten would have con- 
sidered an excuse for retiring from the awful scene, 
he persisted in remaining at his post, and did the 
work of two until the battery had left the field. But 



250 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

it was in the bearing, more than in the daring, of 
the soldier's Hfe that his lovely character displayed 
itself. He never avoided the most trying and irk- 
some duties. H he had selfishness, those who knew 
him long and well as schoolmates and comrades 
never discerned it. More than once I have heard 
his beautiful Christian example spoken of by irreli- 
gious comrades. Bitter and inexplicable as may be 
the Providence which has removed one so full of 
promise of good to his fellows, I feel that we may 
thank God that we have been permitted to witness 
a life so Christ-like terminated by a death so noble.' 

"Captain Poague, commanding the Rockbridge 
Battery, says in a letter to his father: 

" Tn simple justice to your son, I desire to express 
my high appreciation of his noble character as a 
soldier, a Christian, and gentleman. Modest and 
courteous in his deportment, charitable and unsel- 
fish in his disposition, cheerful and conscientious in 
his performance of duty, and upright and consistent 
in his walk and conversation, he was a universal 
favorite in the company, and greatly beloved by his 
friends. I don't think I have ever known a j^oung 
man whose life was so free from the frailties of 
human nature, and whose character in all aspects 
formed so faultless a model for the imitation of 
others. Had his influence been restricted to the 
silent power and beauty of his example, his life on 
earth, short as it was, would not have been in vain. 
The name of Randolph Fairfax will not soon be for- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 251 

gotten by his comrades, and his family may be as- 
sured that there are many who, strangers as they 
are, deeply sympathize with them in their bereave- 
ment.' 

'The following from General Lee will be a fit 
climax to the foregoing tributes : 
" 'Camp Fredericksburg, December 28, 1862. 

" 'My Dear Doctor : I have grieved most 
deeply at the death of your noble son. I have 
watched his conduct from the commencement of 
the war, and have pointed with pride to the patriot- 
ism, self-denial, and manliness of character he has 
exhibited. I had hoped that an opportunity would 
have occurred for the promotion he deserved; not 
that it would have elevated him, but have shown 
that his devotion to duty was appreciated by his 
country. Such an opportunity would undoubtedly 
have occurred ; but he has been translated to a bet- 
ter world for which his purity and his piety have 
eminently fitted him. You do not require to be told 
how great his gain. It is the living for whom I 
sorrow. I beg you will offer to Mrs. Fairfax and 
your daughters my heartfelt sympathy, for I know 
the depth of their grief. That JSod may give you 
and them strength to bear this great affliction is 
the earnest prayer of your early friend, 

" 'R. E. Lee. 

" 'Dr. Orlando Fairfax.' " 

A son and two nephews of Hon. A. R. Boteler. 

A son of Governor Gilmer, of Virginia. 



252 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

S. H. Letcher, brother of War-Governor John 
Letcher. 

Mercer Otey, graduate of Virginia MiHtary In- 
stitute and son of Bishop Otey, of Tennessee. 

Launcelot M. Blackford, A.M., of University of 
Virginia, who became adjutant of the Twenty- 
sixth Virginia Infantry, and Superintendent of the 
Alexandria High School from the close of the war 
to the present time — forty-one years. He has said 
to the writer since the war that he cherished the 
fact of his having been a private in the Rockbridge 
Artillery with more pride than he felt in any honors 
he has since achieved. 

Robert A. Gibson, of Petersburg, Virginia, now a 
bishop of Virginia. 

Livingston Massie, of Waynesboro, who became 
captain of another battery and was killed in General 
Early's battle of Winchester. 

Hugh McGuire, of Winchester, brother of Dr. 
Hunter McGuire, medical director of Jackson's 
corps, whose gallantry won for him a captaincy in 
cavalry and lost him his life on the retreat to Appo- 
mattox. 

Boyd Faulkner, of Martinsburg, son of Hon. 
Charles J. Faulkner. 

Two Bartons from Winchester. 

Two Maurys from Jefferson County, Va. 

Two Minors from Albemarle and one from Han- 
over County, Va. 

Other members of the company, of whom much 




Edward H. Hydk 
(Color-bearer) 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 253 

that is interesting could be written, were Edgar and 
Eugene Alexander, of Moorefield, West Virginia, 
uncles of the authoress, Miss Mary Johnston. The 
first named lost an arm at Fredericksburg, the sec- 
ond had his thigh-bone broken at second Manassas. 
William H. Boiling, of Petersburg, Virginia, the 
handsomest of eight handsome brothers and a most 
polished gentleman. 

Holmes Boyd, of Winchester, now a distinguished 
lawyer of that city. 

Daniel Blaine, of Williamsburg, since the war a 
Presbyterian divine. 

Robert Frazer, of Culpeper, an accomplished 
scholar and prominent educator. 

William L. Gilliam, of Powhatan County. 
Campbell Heiskell, of Moorfield. 
J. K. Hitner, who, though a native of Pennsyl- 
vania, fought through the war for the South. 

William F. Johnston, of Rockbridge, a sterling 
man and soldier. 

Edward Hyde, of Alexandria, an excellent artist, 
who devoted most of his time in camp to drawing 
sketches of army life. He has recently written me 
that his drawings were lost in a canoe in which he 
attempted to cross James River on his journey from 
Appomattox. Otherwise more of them would have 
appeared in this book. 

Otho Kean, of Goochland County, Virginia. 
John E. McCauley, of Rockbridge, sergeant of 
the battery. 



254 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

William S. McClintic, now a prominent citizen 
of Missouri, 

D. D. Magruder, of Frederick County, Virginia. 

Littleton Macon, of Albemarle County, whose 
utterances became proverbial. 

Frank Meade and Frank Nelson, of Albemarle 
county. 

W. C. Gordon, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Jefferson Ruffin, of Henrico. 

J. M. Shoulder, of Rockbridge. 

W. C. Stuart, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Stevens M. Taylor, of Albemarle County, Vir- 
ginia. 

Charles M. Trueheart, now a physician in Gal- 
veston, Texas. 

Thomas M. Wade, of Lexington, Virginia. 

W. H. White, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Calvin Wilson, of Cumberland County. 

John Withrow, of Lexington, Virginia. 

William M. Wilson, of Rockbridge, who went by 
the name of "Billy Zu," abbreviated for zouave; 
and many other fine fellows, most of whom have 
long since "passed over the river." 

Corporal A. S. Whitt, gunner of the fourth piece, 
deserves more than casual mention. His clear, blue 
eye, ruddy complexion, and well-kept beard, and 
above all his merry laugh, made him attractive. The 
following incident will recall him most vividly : 

Our camp in Orange County, known as "Blue 
Run Church," occupied a piece of woodland, the 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 255 

ground sloping to a little ravine along which flowed 
a spring-branch, whose pools afforded bowls for 
our morning face-washing, and whose source, 100 
yards above, delicious drinking water. Approach- 
ing the little stream one morning. I came upon Whitt 
standing with a foot on either side of it, sleeves 
rolled up and shirt collar tucked in, busily engaged. 
As he straightened up to greet me, his eyes caught 
the sun just risen, and turning toward it, his full 
brown beard spangled with the glistening beads of 
water, his face lit up with a smile and uplifted 
hand, he rolled out in that clear baritone voice: 

"Hail' Hail! Smiling morn, smiling morn, 
?hat tips the hills wtth gold, that tips the hills with gold. 
Whose rosy fingers ope the gates of day. 
Hail! Hail!" 

Grand old Gunner Whitt! who could land a 20- 
pound shot within a hair's breadth and not miss. 
I doubt not that in a realm where the wild battle- 
cry and the wicked scream of shells are unknown, 
again and in still richer tones, his salutation is, 
"Hail! Hail! All Hail!" 

A very interesting personality in our battery was 
George Hostetter, a stalwart youth, very erect, with 
large, dark eyes. Born and bred in the mountains 
of Rockbridge, his surroundings had familiarized 
him with the calls of the wild, and to mock the 
various birds and animals of the forest was one of 
his pastimes. The bugle cah for reveille he fre- 
quently anticipated by crowing like a rooster, and 



256 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

so perfect was the imitation that in the semi-con- 
scious state before waking one would expect to see 
and hear the ordinary accompaniments of the farm- 
yard. As my companion on a hunt one morning, 
his skill (knowledge) in woodcraft served me well. 
Finding that the small slugs used on partridges were 
only laughed at by a squirrel, he drew from his 
pocket and handed me four Minie-balls, which he 
must have charmed, as with them I brought down 
three squirrels and a pheasant, but had no such 
luck on later occasions. After removing his shoes 
he went stealthily in advance, his shrill whistle be- 
ing a sure signal that he had "treed." 

After serving two years in the battery, Hostetter 
announced that he was tired of wheeled-guns and 
would try the infantry and be "sergeant of his own 
piece," as he expressed it. This he did by exchang- 
ing places with a man in the Twenty-seventh Regi- 
ment. In the battle of the Wilderness, scorning the 
protection of breastworks, he advanced to the front, 
and after ringing out the defiant challenge of a 
game-cock he would call on the "Yanks to stand up 
and fight." 

Returning to his mountain home at the close of 
the war his ante-bellum life was resumed until closed 
after several years by a tragic death. Having taken 
his gun out one Sunday morning to shoot a maraud- 
ing fox, he saw a party passing by on their way to 
church, and with Stonewall Jackson's idea that only 
the exigencies of war could justify the desecra- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 257 

tion of the Sabbath, to conceal his gun undertook 
to drag it. The gun was accidentally discharged, 
inflicting a mortal wound from which, after a 
week's suffering, he died. 

'In this company were all classes of society and 
all grades of intelligence, from the most cultured 
scholars to the lowest degree of illiteracy. We had 
men who had formerly been gentlemen of leisure, 
lawyers, physicians, students of divinity, teachers, 
merchants, farmers and mechanics, ranging in age 
from boys of _ seventeen to matured men in the 
forties and from all parts of the South and several 
from Northern States, as well as Irish and Ger- 
mans. At one camp-fire could be heard discussions 
on literature, philosophy, science, etc., and at an- 
other horse-talk. The tone of the company was 
decidedly moral, and there was comparatively little 
profanity. In addition to the services conducted by 
the chaplain of the battalion, Rev. Henry White, 
prayer-meetings were regularly held by the theo- 
logical students. Then we had men that swore like 
troopers. "Irish Emmett," whose face was dotted 
with grains of powder imbedded under the skin, 
could growl out oaths through half-clenched teeth 
that chilled one's blood. 

One man, Michael, a conscript from another 
county, a full-grown man, weighing perhaps one 
hundred and seventy-five pounds, was a chronic cry- 
baby ; unfit for other service, he was assigned assist- 
ant at the forge, an(;3^would lie with face to the 



258 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ground and moan out, "I want to go home, 'I want 
to go home," and sob by the hour. 

Another, a primitive man from the German for- 
ests, whose language was scarcely intelligible, lived 
entirely to himself and constructed his shelter of 
brush and leaves — as would a bear preparing to 
hibernate. In his ignorance of the use of an axe I 
saw him, in felling a tree, "throw" it so that it fell 
on and killed a horse tied nearby. On seeing what 
he had done, his lamentation over the dying animal 
was pathetic. 

The death of this horse was peculiar. I have 
seen horses wounded and mutilated in every degree 
of severity — some partially disemboweled, but still 
on their feet, turning round and round in one spot, 
till they lay down to die ; others with great furrows 
plowed along their backs or sides, others still, with 
a leg shot away, tossing the head up and down as 
they labored to follow on, but all too brave to utter 
other than a half -suppressed groan. But this old 
gray went down with a piercing cry, which besides 
giving expression to intense pain seemed a rebuke 
as well to the stupidity of the man, who had brought 
him, after having lived through so many fierce bat- 
tles, to such an ignoble end. 

As a school for the study of human nature, that 
afforded in the various conditions of army life is 
unsurpassed — a life in which danger, fatigue, hun- 
ger, etc., leave no room for dissimulation, and ex- 
pose the good and bad in each individual to the 
knowledge of his associates. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 259 

It sometimes fell to my lot to be on guard-duty 
with Tom Martin, an Irishman who was over forty- 
five and exempt from military service, but was sol- 
diering for the love of it. Sometimes he was very 
taciturn and entirely absorbed with his short- 
stemmed pipe; at other times full of humor and 
entertaining. He gave me an account, one night 
while on post, of what he called his "great flank 
movement"— in other words, a visit to his home in 
Rockbridge without leave. After Doran, another 
Irishman, had been disabled at Malvern Hill and 
discharged from service, he became a sort of huck- 
ster for the battery and would make trips to and 
from Rockbridge with a wagon-load of boxes from 
our homes and also a supply of apple-brandy. While 
camped at Bunker Hill in the fall of 1862, shortly 
after Doran arrived with his load, Captain Poague, 
observing more than an ordinary degree of hilarity 
among some of the men, had the wagon searched, 
the brandy brought forth, confiscated, and emptied 
on the ground. Martin, greatly outraged at the ill- 
treatment of a fellow-son of Erin, and still more so 
at the loss of so much good liquor, forthwith re- 
solved to take his revenge on the Captain by takmg 
"French leave." 

To escape the vigilance of provost-guards and 
deserter-hunters, he made his way to the foothills 
of the North Mountain, and in the course of his 
journey stumbled on a still-house in one of its se- 
cluded glens. To the proprietor, who was making 



260 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

a run of apple-brandy, and who proved to be "a. 
man after me own heart," Martin imparted his 
grievances. "I tould him," he said, "I hadn't a 
cint, but he poured me a tin chuck-full. With 
thanks in me eyes I turned off the whole of it, then 
kindled me pipe and stood close by the still. Ah! 
me lad, how the liquor wint through me ! In thray 
minits I didn't care a domn for all the captins in 
old Stonewall's army !" 

With various adventures he made his way home, 
returned to the company of his own accord, was 
wounded at Gettysburg, captured, and spent the 
remainder of war-time in prison. 

Rader, who drove the lead-horses at my gun 
almost throughout the war, is mentioned elsewhere, 
but his record, as well as his pranks and drollery, 
coupled with his taciturnity, were interesting. 
While sitting on his saddle-horse in one battle he 
was knocked full length to the ground by a bursting 
shell. When those nearby ran to pick him up they 
asked if he was much hurt. "No," he said, "I am 
just skeered to death." At Sharpsburg, while lying 
down, holding his gray mares, a shell tore a trench 
close alongside of him and hoisted him horizontally 
into the air. On recovering his feet he staggered 
off, completely dazed by the concussion. In the 
first battle of Fredericksburg he was struck and 
disabled for a time. At Gettysburg, as the same 
animals, frightened by a bursting shell, w^ieeled to 
run, he seized the bridle of the leader just as it was 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 261 

struck by a shell, which burst at the moment, in- 
stantly killing the two grays and the two horses 
next to them, and stunning Rader as before. But, 
with all of his close calls, his skin was never broken. 
Instead of currying his horses during the time 
allotted for that work he seemed to occupy himself 
teaching them "tricks," but his was the best-groomed 
team in the battery. 

While on guard one cold night, as the wagon 
drivers were sleeping quietly on a bed of loose straw 
near a blazing fire, I saw^ Rader creep up stealthily 
and apply a torch at several places, wait until it 
was well ignited, and then run and yell "Fire !" then 
repeat the sport an hour later. Vanpelt carried an 
enormous knapsack captured from Banks and 
branded "10th Maine." While halting on the march 
it was Rader's amusement, especially when some 
outsider was passing by, to set his whip-stock as a 
prop under it, go through the motions of grinding, 
and rattle off the music of a hand-organ with his 
mouth until chased away by his victim. He mys- 
teriously vanished from Rockbridge after the war, 
and has never since been located. 

Few men in this battery made a finer record than 
did Wm, H. McCampbell, a native of Lexington, 
and since the war a resident of Roanoke County, 
Va. He took part in every engagement from Haines- 
ville in '61 to Appomattox in '65, except Malvern 
Hill, when he was in hospital. He was twice 
wounded, captured at Gettysburg and escaped, and 



262 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

is probably entitled to the distinction of having 
"pulled the lanyard" oftener, that is fired more 
shots, than any other cannoneer in the whole army. 

One of the most striking characters in the com- 
pany was "General" Jake, as we called him, whose 
passion for war kept him always in the army, while 
his aversion to battle kept him always in the rear. 
After serving a year with us, being over military 
age, he got a discharge, but soon joined the Rock- 
bridge cavalry as a substitute, where six legs, in- 
stead of two, afforded three-fold opportunities. An 
interview between the "General" and one of our 
company, as he viewed the former and was struck 
with his appearance, was as follows : 

"Well, 'General,' you are the most perfect-look- 
ing specimen of a soldier I ever beheld. That pierc- 
ing eye, the grizzly mustache, the firm jaw, the pose 
of the head, that voice — in fact, the whole make-up 
fills to the full the measure of a man of war." 

The "General," with a graceful bow and a deep 
roll in his voice, replied, "Sire, in enumerating the 
items which go to constitute a great general I notice 
the omission of one requisite, the absence of which 
in my outfit lost to the cause a genius in council and 
a mighty leader in battle." 

"What was that, 'General'!" 

"Sire, it goes by the name of Cour-ridge." 

Estimates of things are governed by comparison, 
and no better idea of the Southern army could be 
had than that given by a knowledge of its numbers, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 263 

equipment, etc., as compared with those of its ad- 
versary throughout the four years of the war. This 
can be illustrated by a sketch of the Rockbridge 
Artillery in that respect, beginning with its entrance 
into service, as a type of the whole army. 

The guns with which this company set out from 
Lexington were two smooth-bore six-pound brass 
pieces used by Stonewall Jackson for drilling the 
cadets at the Virginia Military Institute, which 
were coupled together and drawn by one pair of 
horses to Staunton. I must pause here and relate 
an incident which occurred at that period, in which 
these guns played a part. Among the cadets was 
one — Hountsell — who was considered as great an 
enigma as Jackson himself. In some of the various 
evolutions of the drill it was necessary for the cadets 
to trot. This gait Hountsell failed to adopt, and 
was reported to the superintendent with the specifi- 
cation "for failing to trot." Hountsell handed in 
his written excuse as follows, "I am reported by 
Major Jackson for failing, at artillery drill, to trot. 
My excuse is, I am a natural pacer." It would be 
interesting to know the workings of Stonewall's 
mind when perusing this reply. 

After reaching Harper's Ferry two more six- 
pound brass pieces were received for this battery 
from Richmond. As there were no caissons for 
these four guns, farm-wagons were used, into which 
boxes of ammunition, together with chests contain- 
ing rations for the men, were loaded. In addition 



264 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

to friction-primers of modern invention at that time 
for firing cannon, the old-time "slow matches" and 
"port-fires" were in stock. So that, in preparing 
for battle with General Patterson's army at Haines- 
ville on July 2, 1861, the ammunition-boxes, provi- 
sion-chests, etc., being loaded indiscriminately into 
the same wagon, were all taken out and placed on 
the ground. The "port-fire," adjusted in a brass 
tube on the end of a wooden stick, was lighted, and 
the stick stuck in the ground by the gun, to give 
a light in case the friction-primer failed. This pro- 
vision was due to the fact that Captain Pendleton 
was familiar with the "port- fire," in vogue when he 
attended West Point. On finding that the friction- 
primer was reliable, the "port-fires" were left stick- 
ing in the ground when the guns withdrew, and were 
captured and taken as curiosities by the Federals. 

After returning to Winchester, ammunition-chests 
were ordered to be made by a carpenter of the town. 
Gen. Joe Johnston, then in command of the forces, 
went in person with Lieutenant Poague, and, as the 
latter expressed it, reprimanded this carpenter most 
unmercifully for his tardiness in the work. The 
chests were then quickly completed and placed on 
wagon-gears, which outfits served as caissons, and 
thus equipped the battery marched to and fought at 
first Manassas. From captures there made, these 
crude contrivances were replaced with regular cais- 
sons, and for two of the six-pound brass pieces two 
rifled ten-pound Parrotts were substituted and two 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 265 

heavier six-pound brass pieces added, making a six- 
gun battery. Also the farm-wagon harness was 
exchanged for regular artillery harness. 

The revolution in the character of Confederate 
field ordnance thenceforward continued, and every 
new and improved weapon we had to confront in 
one battle we had to waeld against our foes, its in- 
ventors, in the next. 

For a short time previous to and in the battle of 
Kernstown the battery had eight guns, two of 
which, made at the Tredegar Works in Richmond, 
were of very inferior quality and were soon discard- 
ed. The long and trying campaign of 1862 gradually 
reduced the number of guns to four, two of which 
were twenty-pound Parrotts captured at Harper's 
Ferry, one a twelve-pound Napoleon captured at 
Richmond, and one a six-pound brass piece. The 
two last were replaced by two more twenty-pound 
Parrotts captured from Milroy at Winchester in 
June, 1863. Each of these guns required a team 
of eight horses and as many to a caisson. They 
were recaptured at Deep Bottom below Richmond 
in July, 1864. 

The battery's connection with the Stonewall Bri- 
gade was severed October 1, at the close of the mem- 
orable campaign of 1862, and under the new regime 
became a part of the First Regiment Virginia Ar- 
tillery, commanded by Col. J. Thompson Brown, 
afterward by Col. R. A. Hardaway. This regiment 
was made up of the second and third companies of 



266 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Richmond Howitzers, the Powhatan battery com- 
manded by Captain Dance, the Roanoke battery 
commanded by Captain Griffin, and Rockbridge bat- 
tery commanded by Captain Graham, with four 
guns to each of the five batteries. 

Our new companions proved to be a fine lot of 
men, and with them many strong and lasting friend- 
ships were formed. 

An idea of the spirit with which the Southern 
people entered into the war can best be conveyed by 
some account of the wild enthusiasm created by the 
troops and the unbounded hospitality lavished upon 
them as they proceeded to their destinations along 
the border. 

The Rockbridge Artillery traveled by rail from 
Staunton to Strasburg. On their march of eighteen 
miles from there to Winchester they were preceded 
by the "Grayson Dare-devils" of Virginia, one hun- 
dred strong, armed with Mississippi rifles and wear- 
ing red-flannel shirts. A mile or two in advance of 
this company was the Fourth Alabama Regiment, 
numbering eight hundred men. The regiment, on 
its arrival at Newtown, a small village six miles 
from Winchester, was provided by the citizens with 
a sumptuous dinner. Then the "Dare-devils" were 
likewise entertained; but still the supplies and hos- 
pitality of the people were not exhausted, as the 
battery, on its arrival, was served with a bountiful 
meal. 

When the battery reached Winchester their two 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 267 

small guns were stored for the night in a warehouse, 
and the men lodged and entertained m private 
houses. On the following day the company went 
by rail to Harper's Ferry, arriving there after dark. 
The place was then under command of Col. T. J. 
Jackson, who was soon after superseded by Gen. 
Joseph E. Johnston. The trains over the B. & U. 
Railroad were still running. Evidences of the John 
Brown raid were plainly visible, and the engme- 
house in which he and his men barricaded them- 
selves and were captured by the marines, commanded 
by Col. R. E. Lee, of the United States Army, stood 
as at the close of that affair. 

One or both sections of the battery were often 
engaged in picket service along the Potomac between 
Sheperdstown and WiHiamsport, in connection with 
the Second Virginia Regiment, which was composed 
of men from the adjoining counties. Their camps 
and bivouacs were constantly visited by the neigh- 
boring people, especially ladies, who came by the 
score in carriages and otherwise, provided with 
abundant refreshments for the inner man. As de- 
scribed by those who participated in it all, the days 
passed as a series of military picnics, in which there 
was no suspicion or suggestion of the serious times 
that were to follow. During the progress of the 
war while these outward demonstrations, of neces- 
sity' diminished, the devotion on the part of the 
grand women of that war-swept region only m- 
creased. 



268 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

I have not undertaken to describe scenes or relate 
incidents which transpired in the battery before I 
became a member of it. But there is one scene which 
was often referred to by those who witnessed it 
which is worthy of mention. It occurred in the fall 
of 1861, near Centerville, when a portion of the 
army, under Gen. Joe Johnston, was returning from 
the front, where an attack had been threatened, and 
was passing along the highway. A full moon was 
shining in its splendor, lighting up the rows of 
stacked arms, parks of artillery, and the white tents 
which dotted the plain on either side. As column 
after column, with bands playing and bayonets 
glistening, passed, as it were, in review, there came, 
in its turn, the First Maryland Regiment headed by 
its drum corps of thirty drums rolling in martial 
time. Next came the First Virginia Regiment with 
its superb band playing the "Mocking-Bird," the 
shrill strains of the cornet, high above the volume 
of the music, pouring forth in exquisite clearness the 
notes of the bird. Scarcely had this melody passed 
out of hearing when there came marching by, in 
gallant style, the four batteries of the Washington 
Artillery, of New Orleans, with officers on horse- 
back and cannoneers mounted on the guns and cais- 
sons, all with sabers waving in cadence to the sound 
of their voices, singing, in its native French, "The 
Marseillaise," that grandest of all national airs. 

The younger generation cannot comprehend, and 
express surprise that the old soldiers never forget 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 269 

and are so wrought up by the recollections of their 
war experiences ; but to have participated in a scene 
such as this will readily explain why a soul should 
thrill at its recurring mention. 

In 1883, nearly twenty years after the war, I was 
called to Cumberland, Maryland, on business. By 
reason of a reunion of the Army of the Cumberland 
being held there at the time, the hotels were crowded, 
making it necessary for me to find accommodations 
in a boarding-house. Sitting around the front door 
of the house, as I entered, were half a dozen Federal 
soldiers discussing war-times. The window of the 
room to which I was assigned opened immediately 
over where the men sat, and as I lay in bed I heard 
them recount their experiences in battle after battle 
in which I had taken part. It stirred me greatly. 
Next morning they had gone out when I went down 
to breakfast, but I told the lady of the house of my 
interest in their talk of the previous night. At noon 
the same party was sitting in the hall, having finished 
their dinners, as I passed through to mine. They 
greeted me cordially and said, "We heard of what 
you said about overhearing us last night ; take a seat 
and let's discuss old times." My answer was, 'T 
have met you gentlemen already on too many battle- 
fields with an empty stomach, so wait till I get my 
dinner." With a hearty laugh this was approved of, 
and I joined them soon after. Most of them were 
from Ohio and West Virginia. They said, though, 
as I was but one against six, to say what I pleased ; 



270 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

and for an hour or more we discussed, good-humor- 
edly, many scenes of mutual interest. 

The following lines are recalled from Merrick's 
songs : 

"Och hone, by the man in the moon ! 
You taze me all ways that a woman can plaze ; 
For you dance twice as high with that thief, Pat 

McGhee, 
As you do when you're dancing a jig, Love, with 

me; 
Though the piper Fd bate, for fear the old chate 
Wouldn't play you your favorite chune. 

"Och hone, don't provoke me to do it, 
For there are girls by the score 
That would have me and more. 
Sure there's Katy Nale, that would jump if Fd say, 
'Katy Nale, name the day.' 
And though you are fresh and fair as the flowers 

in May, 
And she's short and dark as a cowld winter's day. 
If you don't repent before Easter, when Lent 
Is over, I'll marry for spite." 

SAINT PATRICK 

"A fig for St. Denis of France! 

He's a trumpery fellow to brag on. 
A fig for St. George and his lance ! 
Who splitted a heathenish dragon. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 271 

The saints of the Welshman and Scot 

Are a pair of pitiful pipers, 
Both of whom may just travel to pot, 

Compared with the patron of swipers — 
St. Patrick of Ireland, my boy ! 

"Och ! he came to the Emerald Isle 

On a lump of a paving-stone mounted ; 
The steamboat he beat by a mile, 

Which mighty good sailing was counted. 
Said he, 'The salt-water, I think, 

Makes me most bloodily thirsty, 
So fetch me a flagon of drink 

To wash down the mullygrubs, burst ye ! 
A drink that is fit for a saint.' 

"The pewter he lifted in sport, 

And, believe me, I tell you no fable, 
A gallon he drank from the quart 

And planted it down on the table. 
*A miracle !' every one cried. 

And they all took a pull at the stingo. 
They were capital hands at the trade. 

And they drank till they fell; yet, by jingo! 
The pot still frothed over the brim. 

" 'Next day,' quoth his host, 'is a fast 

And there is naught in my larder but mutton. 
On Friday who would serve such repast, 
Except an unchristianlike glutton?' 



272 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Says Pat, 'Cease your nonsense, I beg; 

What you tell me is nothing but gammon. 
Take my compliments down to the leg 

And bid it walk hither, a salmon.' 
The leg most politely complied. 

''Oh ! I suppose you have heard, long ago, 

How the snakes, in a manner quite antic. 
He marched from the County Mayo 

And trundled them into the Atlantic. 
So not to use water for drink, 

The people of Ireland determined. 
And for a mighty good reason, I think, 

Since St. Patrick has filled it with vermin 
And vipers and other such stuff. 

"The people, with wonderment struck 
At a pastor so pious and civil, 
Cried, 'We are for you, my old buck ! 

And we'll pitch our blind gods to the devil 
Who dwells in hot water below.' 

"Och ! he was an iligant blade 

As you'd meet from Fairhead to Killkrumper, 
And, though under the sod he is laid, 

Here goes his health in a bumper! 
I wish he w^as here, that my glass 

He might, by art-magic, replenish — 
But as he is not, why, alas ! 

My ditty must come to a finish. 
Because all the liquor is out." 




John M. Brown 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 273 

THE SECOND ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY 

The Second Rockbridge Artillery Company, or- 
ganized July 10, 1861, like the first Rockbridge Ar- 
tillery, was commanded by a clergyman, the Rev. 
John Miller, of Princeton, New Jersey, as captam. 
In honor of his wife's sister, Miss Lily McDowell, 
daughter of Governor McDowell, of Virgmia, who 
furnished in large part the outfit of this company, 
it was named ''McDowell Guards." She also paid 
a bountv to a youth under military age to serve as 
her personal representative in this company. Miss 
McDowell afterward became the wife of Major 
Bernard Wolfe, whose service with the Rockbridge 
Battery has been mentioned. 

Owing to lack of artillery equipment, the Mc- 
Dowell Guards served as infantry until January, 
1862 in the Fifty-second Virginia Regiment, m 
West Virginia. I heard Captain Miller relate this 
anecdote, which occurred in the battle of Alleghany 
Mountain, December 12, 1861 : A boy in his com- 
pany was having a regular duel with a Federal in- 
fantryman, whose shots several times passed close 
to the boy's head. Finally, when a bullet knocked 
his hat off, he defiantly called out to his adversary, 
"Hey! You didn't git me that time, nuther. You 
didn't git me nary a time !" 

In the early part of 1862 the McDowell Guards 
secured artillery and did excellent service in Mcin- 
tosh's battalion of A. P. Hill's corps until the close 
of the war. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

OAKLAND RETURN TO CAMP OFF DUTY AGAIN 

THE RACE FROM NEW MARKET TO FORT GIL- 
MORE ATTACK ON FORT HARRISON WINTER- 
QUARTERS ON THE LINES VISITS TO RICHMOND 

The desolation and dejection of the people of 
Lexington hastened my departure, but before return- 
ing to the army I spent two weeks most delightfully 
at "Oakland," the hospitable home of Mrs. Cocke, 
in Cumberland County, Virginia. This was the last 
opportunity I had of enjoying the "old plantation 
life," the like of which can never again be experi- 
enced. It was an ideal life, the comforts and ad- 
vantages of which only those who followed it could 
appreciate. Two of Mrs. Cocke's sons, who had 
passed many years at school and college in Lexing- 
ton, were at home — one on sick-leave; the other, 
still a youth, equipping himself for the cavalry ser- 
vice, which he soon entered. William, the eldest 
son, had been killed at Gettysburg and his body never 
recovered. 

Every day at twelve o'clock sharp, delicious water- 
melons were brought from the icehouse to the shade 
of the stately oaks which adorned the spacious lawn ; 
then, two hours later, after a sumptuous dinner, a 
small darky brought from the kitchen a shovel of 

274 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 275 

coals (matches were not a Southern product) to 
light our pipes. So the time passed. It was to this 
hospitable home that General Lee retired with his 
family immediately after Appomattox, and was liv- 
ing on this estate when he accepted the presidency 
of Washington College. 

My wounds being now sufficiently, or rather tem- 
porarily, healed, I embarked about bedtime at Car- 
tersville on the canal packet boat. On my way to a 
berth in the cabin I noticed, by the dim light, a 
striking-looking man clad in white lying in his berth. 
On the deck of the boat were a score or more of 
negroes, male and female, singing so boisterously 
that the other passengers could not sleep. Such 
conduct at this time was felt to be significant, and 
the more so as the officers of the boat refrained from 
interfering. Without intimation there was a leap 
from my neighboring bunk, a hurried scramble up 
the stairway, followed by a volley of — secular lan- 
guage, with a demand for instantaneous choice be- 
tween ''dead silence and dead niggers." Thence- 
forward stillness prevailed, broken at intervals when 
the plaintive windings of the packet horn, rising and 
falling with the motion of the tandem team, heralded 
our approach to a lock. Who that ever boarded that 
ancient craft, or dwelt within its sound, will cease 
to recall the associations awakened by the voice of 
the old packet horn? 

Next morning I recognized my fellow-country- 
man, Bob Greenlee, of the First Virginia Cavalry, 



276 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

as the man whose eloquence had terrorized the 
negroes. Greenlee has been aptly styled "a rare bird," 
and the accounts he gave of experiences during his 
sick-leave, from which he was now returning, were 
as good as "David Harum." 

I found the battery stationed at New Market, on 
the north side of the James, near Dutch Gap. Dur- 
ing my absence it had suffered the only serious loss 
of the kind it had experienced during the war — the 
capture of all four of its twenty-pound Parrott guns 
at Deep Bottom. The horses, as usual, had been 
taken to the rear for safety. The infantry support 
had been outflanked, leaving our guns almost sur- 
rounded, so that the cannoneers escaped with diffi- 
culty — only one of them, Andrew Darnall, being 
captured. 

The ranks of the company had been considerably 
depleted by chills and fever, so prevalent in that 
swampy region, and one death had occurred — that 
of John Gibbs, a most excellent soldier. Less than 
a week's sojourn was sufficient to poison my blood 
and reopen an old wound received two years before. 
I was sent to Richmond, but twenty- four hours' ex- 
perience in a hospital among the sick, the wounded, 
and the dying induced me to get a discharge and 
work my way, by hook and crook, back to Oakland, 
where I underwent a severe visitation of chills and 
fever. This, however, was soon broken up by quin- 
ine, and I again rejoined the battery. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 277 

The summer now drawing to a close had been a 
most trying one, and the future offered no sign of 
rehef. The situation was one of simply waiting to 
be overwhelmed. That the fighting spirit was unim- 
paired was demonstrated in every encounter, notably 
the one on July 30, at The Crater, near Petersburg. 

During the night of September 28 there was heard 
the continued rumbling of wheels and the tramp of 
large forces of the enemy crossing on the pontoon 
bridges from the south to north side of the James. 
At dawn next morning we hurriedly broke camp, as 
did Gary's brigade of cavalry camped close l)y, and 
scarcely had time to reach high ground and unlimber 
before we were attacked. The big gaps in our lines, 
entirely undefended, were soon penetrated, and the 
contest quickly became one of speed to reach the 
shorter line of fortifications some five miles nearer 
to and in sight of Richmond. The break through 
our lines was on our right, which placed the Federals 
almost in our rear, so that a detour of several miles 
on our part was necessary. On the principle that the 
chased dog is generally the fleetest, we succeeded in 
reaching the breastworks, a short distance to the left 
of Fort Gilmore, with all four guns, now ten-pound 
Parrotts, followed by the straggling cannoneers 
much exhausted. I vividly recall George Ginger, 
who was No. 1 at one of the guns, as he came trot- 
ting in with the gun-rammer on his shoulder, which 
he had carried five miles through brush and brake 
for want of time to replace it on the gun-carriage. 



278 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Much has been written about the defense of Fort 
Gilmore, and much controversy as to who deserved 
the credit. The fact that a superb fight was made 
was fully apparent when we entered the fort an hour 
later, while the negroes who made the attack were 
still firing from behind stumps and depressions in 
the cornfield in front, to which our artillery replied 
with little effect. The Fort was occupied by about 
sixty men who, I understood, were Mississippians. 
The ditch in front was eight or ten feet deep and as 
many in width. Into it, urged on by white officers, 
the negroes leaped, and to scale the embankment 
on the Fort side climbed on each other's shoulders, 
and were instantly shot down as their heads ap- 
peared above it. The ground beyond was strewn 
with dead and wounded. A full regiment had pre- 
ceded us into the Fort, but the charge on it had 
been repulsed by the small force before its arrival. 

Next morning we counted twenty-three dead 
negroes in the ditch, the wounded and prisoners 
having previously been removed. There was great 
lamentation among them when "Corporal Dick" 
fell. He was a conspicuous leader, jet black, and 
bald as a badger. A mile to the right of Fort Gil- 
more and one- fourth of a mile in advance of our 
line of breastworks was Fort Harrison, which was 
feebly garrisoned by reserves. This force had been 
overpowered and the Fort taken by the Federals. 
Two days later, and after it had been completely 
manned with infantry and artillery, an unsuccess- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 279 

ful attempt was made to recapture it, of which we 
had a full view. The attack was made by Colquitt's 
and Anderson's brigades, while General Lee stood 
on the parapet of Fort Gilmore with field-glass in 
hand, waving his hat and cheering lustily. Of 
course our loss in killed, wounded, and captured 
was very heavy. This ended the fighting, except 
sharpshooting, on the north side of the James. 

During our stay in Fort Gilmore a company of 
Reserves from Richmond took the place of the 
regular infantry. They were venerable-looking old 
gentlemen — lawyers, business men, etc., dressed in 
citizens' clothes. In order to accustom them to the 
service, we supposed, they were frequently roused 
during the night to prepare for battle. After sev- 
eral repetitions of this they concluded, about two 
o'clock one night, that it was useless to retire again 
and go through the same performance, so a party 
of them kindled a fire and good-humoredly sat 
around in conversation on various subjects, one of 
which was infant baptism. My bedfellow, Tom 
Williamson, a bachelor under twenty years of age, 
being deeply interested in this c[uestion, of para- 
mount importance at this time, forthwith left his 
bunk, and from that time until daylight theology 
was in the air. 

Our battery changed from the Fort to a position 
one-fourth of a mile to the left of it, the two sec- 
tions being placed a hundred yards apart, where we 
remained until March. 



280 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

It seems remarkable even now, after a lapse of 
over forty years, that under such conditions and 
without the slightest reasonable hope of ultimate 
success we could have passed six months, including 
a severe winter, not only moderately comfortable, 
but ofttimes with real pleasure. Huts and hovels 
of as varied architecture as the scarcity of material 
at our disposal could be shaped into, rose above or 
descended below the ground. The best shelters 
were built of pine logs six or eight inches in diame- 
ter, split in half, with the bark-side out. From a 
swamp a quarter of a mile in the rear, in which the 
trees had been previously felled for military opera- 
tions, we carried our fuel. Several hundred negroes 
had been impressed, in neighboring counties within 
Confederate lines, to work on the adjacent fortifi- 
cations, which, by their industry, soon became very 
strong. In our immediate front, manning the Fed- 
eral works, were negro troops whose voices could 
be distinctly heard in darky songs and speech, and 
their camp-fires were in full view. 

It was at this time that General Early was dis- 
tinguishing himself in the Shenandoah Valley with 
repeated defeats in battle, the first news of which 
reached us in a peculiar way ; that is, when the news 
reached Grant's lines a shotted salute in celebration 
was fired at us, thus "killing two birds with one 
stone." These volleys of shot and shell produced 
consternation among the negroes working on our 
fortifications. Panic-stricken, they would break for 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 281 

the rear, casting aside picks, shovels, or anything 
that retarded speed ; and to get them and their scat- 
tered tools gathered up after such a stampede re- 
quired several days. I was rec|uested, by a negro 
who had just experienced one of these escapades, 
to write a letter for him to his home people. He 
dictated as follows : 

"My dear Wife: I take this opportunity of tak- 
ing you down a few words and telling you of the 
terrible bumming we was under yesterday. The 
shells fell fast as hail and lightened as from a cloud 
— and we had a smart run. Give my love to Mam- 
my and tell her how we is sufferin' for somethin' 
to eat." 

Then followed some other pieces of news ; then 
love to various kinsmen, with a message to each of 
how they were "sufferin' for somethin' to eat." 

The space between the two sections of our bat- 
tery was occupied by infantry. I particularly re- 
member the Nineteenth Georgia Regiment, a game 
body of men, whose excellent band furnished us fine 
music. It was ordered, during the winter, to North 
Carolina and lost — killed in battle soon after — its 
colonel and adjutant, Neil and Turner. A mile in 
rear of our lines stood a church, a substantial frame 
building, which, for want of better use, was con- 
verted into a theater. As in the recent drafting 
every department of life had been invaded, a very 
respectable element of a histrionic turn was to be 



282 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

found in the ranks. The stage scenery, as one 
would imagine, was not gaudy and, of course, did 
not afford equipment for high art in the strict sense ; 
but the doleful conditions of home life now in 
vogue in the South and the desperate straits for 
food and existence in camp afforded a fund of 
amusement to those of us who were inclined to 
pluck sport from hopeless conditions. 

One of the performers — named Nash — was a 
first-rate comedian. As an interlude he gave a rep- 
resentation of an attempt made by the people to 
furnish the army a Christmas dinner. To give an 
idea of what a failure such an undertaking would 
naturally be, when the people themselves were al- 
most destitute, one thin turkey constituted the share 
for a regiment close by us, while our battery did 
not get so much as a doughnut. Nash, in taking 
the thing off, appeared on the stage with a com- 
panion to propound leading questions, and, after 
answering one query after another, to explain the 
meaning of his droll conduct, drew his hand from 
the side pocket of his blouse and, with his head 
thrown back and mouth wide open, poured a few 
dry cracker crumbs down his throat. When asked 
by the ringman what that act signified, he drawled 
out, in lugubrious tones, "Soldier eating Christmas 
dinner !" The righteous indignation produced 
among the few citizens by such sacrilegious use of 
a church soon brought our entertainments to a close. 

Our time was frequently enlivened by visits to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 283 

Richmond. By getting a twenty-four-hour leave 
we could manage to spend almost forty-eight hours 
in the city. On a pass — dated, for instance, Janu- 
ary 13 — we could leave camp immediately after 
reveille and return in time for reveille on the fif- 
teenth. 

That this would be the last winter that Richmond 
would be the capital of the Confederacy, or that 
the Confederacy itself would be in existence, was 
a feeling experienced by all, but was too painful a 
subject for general discussion. The gaiety of the 
place under such conditions, viewed at this remote 
day, seems astonishing. There the Confederate 
Congress and the Virginia Legislature held their 
sessions ; and there were the numerous employees 
of State and Nation, and refugees from various 
parts of the South, and, besides, it was the great 
manufacturing center of that section, employing 
mechanics and artisans of every calling. For four 
years this mixed multitude had listened to the 
thunder of cannon almost at their doors, and had 
seen old men and boys called out by day and by 
night to meet some extraordinary emergency, while 
it was no uncommon occurrence for hundreds of 
sick, wounded, and dead men to be borne through 
the streets to the overflowing hospitals and ceme- 
teries. One surprising feature of it was to see how 
readily all adapted themselves to such a life. 

My first social visit, in company with my mess- 
mate, James Gilmer, of Charlottesville, Virginia, 



284 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

was to call on some lady friends, formerly of Win- 
chester. We found these ladies starting to an egg- 
nog at the house of some friends — the Misses Mun- 
ford — with instructions to invite their escorts. This 
position we gladly accepted, and were soon ushered 
into the presence of some of the celebrated beauties 
of Richmond, and were entertained as graciously 
as if we had been officers of high rank. The cli- 
max of this visit was as we were returning to camp 
the next afternoon. We overtook Tazewell Mc- 
Corkle, of Lynchburg, the only member of our 
company who could afford the luxury of being 
married and having his wife nearby. He had just 
received a box from home, and invited us to go 
with him to his wife's boarding-house and partake 
of its contents. While enjoying and expressing our 
appreciation of the good things, McCorkle told us 
of the impression the sight of old-time luxuries had 
made on their host, Mr. Turner, a devout old Bap- 
tist, who, with uplifted hands, exclaimed, as it first 
met his gaze, "Pound-cake, as I pray to be saved !" 
Since the burning of the Virginia Military Insti- 
tute barracks, by Hunter at Lexington, the school 
had been transferred to Richmond and occupied the 
almshouse. This, on my visits to the city, I made 
my headquarters, and, preparatory to calling on my 
lady acquaintances, was kindly supplied with out- 
fits in apparel by my friends among the professors. 
Having developed, since entering the service, from 
a mere vouth in size to a man of two hundred 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 285 

pounds, to fit me out in becoming style was no 
simple matter. I recall one occasion when I started 
out on my visiting-round, wearing Frank Preston's 
coat, Henry Wise's trousers, and Col. John Ross's 
waistcoat, and was assured by my benefactors that 
I looked like a brigadier-general. Sometimes as 
many as four or six of our company, having leave 
of absence at the same time, would rendezvous to 
return together in the small hours of the night, 
through Rocketts, where "hold-ups" were not un- 
common, and recount our various experiences as 
we proceeded campward. 

Indications of the hopelessness of the Confeder- 
acy had, by midwinter, become very much in evi- 
dence, with but little effort at concealment. Con- 
ferences on the subject among the members of com- 
panies and regiments were of almost daily occur- 
rence, in which there was much discussion as to 
what course should be pursued when and after the 
worst came. Many resolutions were passed in these 
meetings, avowing the utmost loyalty to the cause, 
and the determination to fight to the death. In one 
regiment not far from our battery a resolution was 
offered which did not meet the approbation of all 
concerned, and was finally passed in a form qualified 
thus. "Resolved, that in case our army is over- 
whelmed and broken up, we will bushwack them; 
that is, some of us will." 

Notwithstanding all this apprehension, scant ra- 
tions and general discomfort, the pluck and spirit 



286 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

of the great majority of our men continued un- 
abated. To give an idea of the insufficiency of the 
rations we received at this time, the following inci- 
dent which I witnessed will suffice : Immediately 
after finishing his breakfast, one of our company 
invested five dollars in five loaves of bread. After 
devouring three of them, his appetite was suffi- 
ciently appeased to enable him to negotiate the ex- 
change of one of the two remaining for enough 
molasses to sweeten the other, which he ate at once. 
These loaves, which were huckstered along the 
lines by venders from Richmond, it must be under- 
stood, were not full-size, but a compromise between 
a loaf and a roll. 

The frequent occasions of foraging and stress 
laid on eating, in these pages, has doubtless been 
noticed and very naturally and inquiringly by those 
whose lives have had no such experience. A simple 
extract quoted from a Northern source — "Recol- 
lections of a Private Soldier in the Army of the 
Potomac," by Frank Wilkeson — will suffice. It 
reads : 'T was hungry — it seems now, as I recall 
those dark and bloody days, I was always hungry." 

Desertions were of almost nightly occurrence, 
and occasionally a half-dozen or more of the in- 
fantry on the picket line would go over in a body 
to the enemy and give themselves up. The Fed- 
erals, who had material and facilities for pyrotech- 
nic displays, one night exhibited in glaring letters 
of fire: 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 287 

"While the lamp holds out to burn, 
The vilest rebel may return." 

Toward the latter part of March our battery 
moved half a mile back of the line of breastworks. 
Two or more incidents recall, very distinctly to my 
memory, the camp which we there occupied. The 
colored boy Joe, who had cooked for my mess when 
rations were more abundant, was on hand again to 
pay his respects and furnish music for our dances. 
If we had been tramping on a hard floor never a 
sound of his weak violin could have been heard; 
but on the soft, pine tags we could go through the 
mazes of a cotillion, or the lancers, with apparently 
as much life as if our couples had been composed 
of the two sexes. The greatest difficulty incurred, 
in having a game of ball, was the procurement of a 
ball that would survive even one inning. One fair 
blow from the bat would sometimes scatter it into 
so many fragments that the batter would claim that 
there were not enough remains caught by any one 
fielder to put him out. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

EVACUATION OF RICHMOND PASSING THROUGH 

RICHMOND BY NIGHT THE RETREAT BATTLE 

OF sailor's CREEK BATTLE OF CUMBERLAND 

CHURCH 

While here, in the midst of our gaiety, came the 
news of the breaking of our Hues near Petersburg, 
and with this a full comprehension of the fact that 
the days of the Confederacy were numbered. I 
was in Richmond on Sunday, April 2, and escorted 
to church a young lady whose looks and apparel 
were in perfect keeping with the beautiful spring 
day. The green-checked silk dress she wore looked 
as fresh and unspotted as if it had just run the 
blockade. As the church we attended w^as not the 
one at which the news of the disaster had been 
handed to President Davis, our services were not 
interrupted, nor did I hear anything of it until I 
had parted with her at her home and gone to the 
house of a relative. Dr. Randolph Page's, to dine. 
There I learned that a fierce battle had been fought 
at Five Forks, on the extreme right of our line, in 
which the Federals had gotten possession of the 
railroads by which our army was supplied with food. 
This, of course, necessitated the abandonment of 
both Richmond and Petersburg. 

As I passed along the streets in the afternoon 

288 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 289 

there was nothing to indicate a panicky feeHng; in 
fact, there was rather less commotion than usual, 
but much, no doubt, within doors. 

On arriving at camp I was the first to bring tid- 
ings of what had occurred to the company, and 
observed the varying effect produced on the differ- 
ent members, officers and men. To some it came 
as relief after long suspense, while others seemed 
hopelessly cast down and dejected. Orders to pre- 
pare to move soon followed, and our march to and 
through Richmond began with only two of our four 
guns, the other two being left behind for want of 
horses. 

We reached the city shortly before midnight, and, 
with Estill Waddell, of our battalion, I passed by 
the home of some friends, who, we found, had re- 
tired for the night. In response to my call, the 
head of the house appeared at an upper window. 
I had with me the few valuables I possessed, among 
them the brass button worn on my jacket and in- 
dented by the shell at second Cold Harbor. These 
I tossed into the yard, with the request that he 
would keep them for me. And, some months after 
the war, the package was sent to me in Lexington. 

We could now see and realize what the evacua- 
tion of Richmond involved. Waddell had learned 
that his brother James, adjutant of the Twenty- 
fourth Virginia Infantry, had been wounded the 
day before at Petersburg, and was in the Chimbo- 
razo Hospital. At this we soon arrived, and en- 



290 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

tered a large apartment with low ceiling and bril- 
liantly lighted. On row after row of cots lay 
wounded men, utterly oblivious and indifferent to 
the serious conditions that disturbed those of us 
who realized what they were. Nurses and attend- 
ants were extremely scarce, and as deep silence pre- 
vailed as if each cot contained a corpse. 

iVfter a search of a few moments Waddell recog- 
nized his brother in sound sleep. His appearance 
for manly beauty, as we stood over him, surpassed 
that of any figure I have ever seen. His slight, 
graceful form stretched at full length, a snow-white 
forehead fringed with dark hair, and chin resting 
on his chest, he lay like an artist's model rather 
than a wounded warrior, and the smile with which 
his brown eyes opened at the sound of his brother's 
voice betokened the awakening from a dream of 
peace and home. On another cot, a few steps far- 
ther on, I recognized John McClintic, of the Rock- 
bridge Cavalry, and brother of my messmate. He 
was a boy of seventeen, with his arm shattered at 
the shoulder. On the cot next to him lay a man 
who was dying. McClintic and the others near him 
who could make their wants known were almost 
famished for water, a bucket of which, after much 
difficulty, we secured for them. On the following 
day this young fellow, rather than be left in the 
hands of the Federals, rode in an ox-cart and walked 
twenty miles, and finally reached his home in Rock- 
bridge. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 291 

After leaving the hospital we passed on to Main 
street and the business part of the city, where the 
scene would remind one of Bulwer's description of 
"The Last Days of Pompeii." The storehouses had 
been broken into and stood wide open, and fires had 
been kindled out of the goods boxes, on the floors, 
to afford light to plunder. Articles of liquid na- 
ture, especially intoxicants, had been emptied into 
the gutters, from which such portions as could be 
rescued were being greedily sought. 

From dark garrets and cellars the old hags and 
half -starved younger women and children had 
gathered, and were reaping a harvest such as they 
had never dreamed of. I saw a small boy, with an 
old, wrinkled, grinning woman at his heels, steer a 
barrel of flour around a corner and into a narrow 
alley with the speed and skill of a roustabout. The 
fire' on the floors had not extended to the structures 
as we passed, but as no one seemed in the least 
concerned or interfered with their progress the 
flames soon put in their work and spread in all di- 
rections. 

We crossed the James on Mayo's Bridge, follow- 
ing the road in a southwesterly direction. With the 
first appearance of dawn the blowing up of the 
naval vessels in the river began, culminating in a 
gigantic explosion that made the earth tremble. 
This last was the magazine at Drewry's Bluff. 

Witnessing such scenes, with a realization of 
their significance, in the early part of our war ex- 



292 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

perience would, no doubt, have been hopelessly 
demoralizing, but now the calmness and fortitude 
with which we took it demonstrated the fact that 
four years of such schooling had seasoned us to 
meet unflinchingly the most desperate situations. 
When broad daylight came we had the opportunity 
of seeing some of the heterogeneous elements of 
which Richmond was composed. Disaster had 
come too suddenly to afford time beforehand for 
the non-combatants to migrate, even if there had 
been safe places to which to flee. 

That such looking objects should have under- 
taken to accompany an army in the field, or rather 
into the fields, indicated what desperate chances 
they were willing to take rather than abandon 
themselves to a doubtful fate by remaining behind. 
In addition to the city contingent and those who 
garrisoned the forts where heavy ordnance only 
was used, the line of march w^as joined by the ma- 
rine department, which had been doing duty on the 
river craft about Dutch Gap, Drewry's and Chaflin's 
bluffs, etc. Altogether, it was a motley combina- 
tion, which afforded much amusement and the usual 
sallies of wit at each other's expense. The marine 
element was the most striking in appearance, and 
encumbered with enough baggage for a voyage to 
the North Pole. In three days' time this had all 
been discarded. 

After marching day and night the two wings of 
our army, having been separated since the previous 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 293 

summer, united at Amelia Court House, about 40 
miles from Richmond. Ours — that is, the one from 
the north side of the river — had not been pressed 
by the enemy up to this point. As if in recognition 
of and to celebrate the reunion, an explosion took 
place far too violent for an ordinary salute. Dur- 
ing a short halt, while the road v^as filled with in- 
fantry and artillery side by side, we felt the earth 
heave under our feet, followed instantly by a ter- 
rific report, and then a body of fire and flame, a 
hundred feet in diameter, shot skyward from be- 
3'ond an intervening copse of woods. It proved to 
be the blowing up of sixty caissons, one hundred 
and eighty chests of ammunition, which could not 
be hauled farther for want of horses. For a mo- 
ment the roar and concussion produced consterna- 
tion. Those who were standing crouched as if for 
something to cling to, and those sitting sprang to 
their feet. The Crater affair at Petersburg had not 
been forgotten, and that we should be hurled into 
space by some infernal eruption flashed into our 
minds. 

Provisions had been ordered by General Lee over 
the railroad from Danville to Amelia Court House 
in readiness for the army on its arrival there. By 
some misunderstanding, or negligence on the part 
of the railroad management, these supplies had gone 
on to Richmond, so that all expectation of satisfy- 
ing hunger was now gone. Corn on the cob had 
already been issued to the men, which, it may be 



294 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

presumed, was to be eaten raw, as no time nor means 
for parching it was available. Three of these "nub- 
bins," which had been preserved, I saw many years 
after the war. 

After trudging along, with short halts and mak- 
ing very little progress, our battery of only two 
guns went into park about midnight, but without 
unhitching the horses. After being roused several 
times from sleep to march, I concluded, after the 
third false alarm, to lie still. When I awoke some 
time later the battery had moved and, in the dim 
light, I failed to find the course it had taken. Fol- 
fowing on for some distance I came to General 
Lee's headquarters in a farmhouse by the roadside, 
and was informed by Capt. James Garnett, one of 
the staff, that the battery would soon pass along the 
road at the point w^e then were. Sitting down with 
my back against a tree I, of course, fell asleep. 
From this I was shortly roused by rapid firing close 
by, and saw our wagon-train scattered and fleeing 
across the fields, with horses at a run and hotly 
pursued by Federal cavalry, who, with reins on their 
horses' necks, were firing at them with repeating 
guns. I was overlooked and passed by in the chase 
as too small game for them. 

The road over which I had passed was in the 
form of a semi-circle, and to escape I obliqued 
across the fields to a point I had gone over an hour 
or tw^o before, where it crossed Sailor's Creek. 
Along the road, ascending the hill on the south side 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 295 

of the creek, I found several brigades of our in- 
fantry, commanded by Ex-Governor Billy Smith, 
Gen. Custis Lee and Colonel Crutchfield, halted in 
the road and exposed to a sharp artillery fire, which, 
notwithstanding the fact that the place was heavily 
wooded, was very accurate and searching. Colonel 
Crutchfield was killed here, his head being taken off 
by a solid shot. This was not a comfortable place 
in which to linger while waiting for the battery, but 
comfortable places in that neighborhood seemed 
exceedingly scarce. 

Very soon my friend, Henry Wise, who was a 
lieutenant in Huger's battalion of artillery, appeared 
on horseback and informed me that almost all of 
the cannoneers of his battalion had just been cap- 
tured and that he was then in search of men to take 
their places. I offered my services, and, following 
the directions he gave, soon found his guns, and 
was assigned to a number at one of them by Lieut. 
George Poindexter, another old acquaintance of 
Lexington. 

The infantry at this part of the line was what 
was left of Pickett's division, among whom I recog- 
nized and chatted with other old friends of the Vir- 
ginia Military Institute as we sat resignedly wait- 
ing for the impending storm to burst. The Federal 
cavalry which had passed me previously in pursuit 
of our wagons, quartermasters, etc., was part of a 
squadron that had gotten in rear of Pickett's men 
and given General Pickett and staff a hot chase for 



296 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

some distance along the line of his command. Some 
of their men and horses were killed in their eager- 
ness to overhaul the General. It was perfectly evi- 
dent that our thin line of battle was soon to be 
assaulted, as the enemy's skirmishers were advanc- 
ing on our front and right flank and his cannon 
sweeping the position from our left. We were not 
long in suspense. Almost simultaneously we were 
raked by missiles from three directions. To have 
offered resistance would have been sheer folly. In 
fifteen minutes the few survivors of Pickett's im- 
mortal division had been run over and captured, to- 
gether with the brigades which were posted on their 
left. 

Lieutenant Wise having failed to receive any 
other cannoneers to replace those previously cap- 
tured, the guns, without firing a shot, were left 
standing unlimbered. As we started in haste to re- 
tire, he and Poindexter being mounted, expressed 
great concern lest I, being on foot, should be cap- 
tured. Just as they left me, however, and while 
the air seemed filled with flying lead and iron, I 
came upon one of the ambulance corps who was try- 
ing to lead an unruly horse. It was a Federal cav- 
alry horse, whose rider had been killed in pursuit 
of General Pickett. In the horse's efforts to break 
loose, the two saddles he was carrying had slipped 
from his back and were dangling underneath, which 
increased his fright. I suggested to the man that, 
to escape capture, he had better give me the horse. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 297 

as he seemed to be afraid to ride him. To this he 
readily assented, and, with his knife, cut one saddle 
loose, set the other on his back, and handed me the 
halter-strap as I mounted. The terrified animal 
without bridle or spur, was off like a flash, and in 
a few minutes had carried me out of the melee. I 
still have and prize the saddle. The few who es- 
caped from this affair, known as the battle of Sail- 
or's Creek, by retreating a mile north came in prox- 
imity to another column of our troops marching on a 
parallel road. 

As I rode up I saw General Lee dismounted and 
standing on a railroad embankment, intently ob- 
serving our fleeing men, who now began to throng 
about him. He very quietly but firmly let them 
know that it would be best not to collect in groups ; 
the importance of which they at once understood 
and acted on. 

Approaching night, which on previous occasions, 
when conditions were reversed, had interfered to 
our disadvantage, now shielded us from further 
pursuit. It can readily be seen what demoraliza- 
tion would follow such an exhibition of our utter 
helplessness. But still there seemed to be no alter- 
native but to prolong the agony, although perfectly 
assured that we could not escape death or capture, 
and that in a very brief time. Soon after nightfall 
I found our battery, which had traveled over a 
shorter and less exposed road, and thereby escaped 
the adventures which had fallen to my lot. Our 



298 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

course was now toward High Bridge, which spans 
the Appomattox River near Farmville. On we 
toiled throughout the night, making very slow prog- 
ress, but not halting until near noon the following 
day. Under present conditions there were not the 
ordinary inducements to make a halt, as food for 
man and beast was not in evidence. I had not eaten 
a bite for forty-eight hours. Notwithstanding this, 
and as if to draw attention from our empty stom- 
achs, orders came to countermarch and meet a 
threatened attack on the line in our rear. To this 
the two guns with their detachments promptly re- 
sponded, reported to General Mahone and took 
part with his division in a spirited battle at Cum- 
berland Church. 

It has been stated, by those who had opportuni- 
ties of knowing, that Mahone's division was never 
driven from its position in battle throughout the 
four years of the war. True or not, it held good in 
this case, and those of our battery who took part 
with them were enthusiastic over the gallant fight 
they made under circumstances that were not in- 
spiring. There being a surplus of men to man our 
two guns, Lieut. Cole Davis and Billy McCauley 
procured muskets and took part with the infantry 
sharpshooters. McCauley was killed. He was a 
model soldier, active and wiry as a cat and tough 
as a hickory sapling. He had seen infantry service 
before joining our battery, and, as already men- 
tioned, had "rammed home" one hundred and sev- 





Launcelot Minor 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 299 

enty-five shells in the first battle of Fredericksburg". 
Another member of our company, Launcelot 
Minor, a boy of less than eighteen years, was shot 
through the lungs by a ]\Iinie-ball. He was thought 
to be dying, but was carried from the field, as he tells 
in the following extract from a letter recently re- 
ceived from him: "I am almost too old to begin to 
write a history of myself, but will try to give you 
an account of things from April 8th, 1865, to Aug- 
ust, 1865, when I got back to my home in Albe- 
marle County, Virginia. After the line was formed 
at Cumberland Church, and after we had extri- 
cated ourselves from the swamps at High Bridge, 
I was sent to burn the remaining wagons, but was 
soon ordered to the battery, which was in action 
on the hill. About three or four o'clock that even- 
ing I was shot and was taken by Bumpus and 
Ruffin to a blacksmith-shop some distance away. I 
was in my right mind for several hours and re- 
member that many came to tell me good-by as they 
left the field. Old Byrd, I remember well, and 
Bumpus asking him if he could do anything, and 
Byrd said, 'You dig a hole and he will be ready 
for it by the time it is done.' 

"The next thing I knew it was April 18th, and I 
found myself on a mattress in the house of a Mrs. 
Hobson, and a dead Yankee by my side. My clothes 
had not been moved, but an angel woman, Miss 
Hobson, was sticking a spoon of chicken broth into 
my mouth. I wish I could describe this woman — 



300 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

for I had been dead and associated with the Heav- 
enly Host, and thought one had followed me to 
earth. She told me that the dead Yankee had 
taken from my breast the note and fifty cents that 
Bumpus had put there and replaced it with five 
dollars in gold ; this was done, she said, the morn- 
ing I 'came to' and he died. At the Louisville Re- 
union, Bumpus, whom I saw for the first time since 
the war, told me that he had written the note and 
placed fifty cents in it, and it requested that 'who- 
ever may find this body will please notify Mrs. Dr. 
Charles Minor, at Charlottesville, Virginia, and 
mark the grave and accept in token this fifty cents.' 
The note was intact when I came to myself, but 
instead of fifty cents it contained five dollars in 
gold, which did valuable service in those trying 
times. When I got home, in the latter part of 
August, 1865, I found my mother and sisters desti- 
tute, and brother Charles working to keep things 
alive — no cow, no horses — only an old blind ox, 
not fit for beef and too poor to die. I have inquired 
diligently for the good woman who nursed me to 
life, but could never learn anything of her nor of 
my Yankee friend." 



CHAPTER XXIX 



APPOMATTOX 



Another night was now at hand, and while it 
might be supposed that nothing could be added to 
intensify the suspense there certainly was nothing 
to allay it. Although there was little left to destroy, 
we passed heaps of burning papers, abandoned 
wagons, etc., along the roadsides. 

As each new scene or condition in our lives gives 
rise to some new and corresponding feeling or emo- 
tion, our environment at this time was such as to 
evoke sensations of dread and apprehension hitherto 
unknown. Moving parallel with us, and extending 
its folds like some huge reptile, was an army equip- 
ped with the best the world could afford — three- 
fold greater in numbers than our own — which in 
four years had never succeeded in defeating us in 
a general battle, but which we had repeatedly routed 
and driven to cover. Impatient of delay in effect- 
ing our overthrow in battle, in order to starve us 
out, marauding bands had scoured the country, 
leaving ashes and desolation in their wake. 

That now their opportunity to pay up old scores 
had come, we fully realized, and anticipated with 
dread the day of reckoning. General Grant, who 
was Commander-in-Chief of all the Federal armies, 

30i 



302 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

and at present personally in command of the army 
about us, was by no means regarded as a man of 
mercy. He had positively refused to exchange 
prisoners, thousands of whom on both sides were 
languishing and dying in the hands of their captors. 
It should be borne in mind, in this connection, that 
the offers to exchange had come from the Confed- 
erate authorities, and for the last two years of the 
war had been invariably rejected by the Federal 
Government. In the campaign beginning in May, 
1864, and ending with the evacuation of Richmond, 
Grant's army had sustained a loss greater in num- 
ber than that of the whole army opposed to him. 

Among the ranks were foreigners of every na- 
tionality. I had seen, as prisoners in our hands, a 
whole brigade of Germans who could not speak a 
word of English. During the preceding winter we 
had been confronted with regiments of our former 
slaves. Our homes and people we were leaving 
behind to the mercy of these hordes, as if forever. 

Another and by no means unimportant consid- 
eration was whether to remain and meet results 
with the command, or for each man to shift for 
himself. Setting out from Richmond on the pre- 
ceding Sunday, with no accumulation of vigor to 
draw on, we had passed a week with food and sleep 
scarcely sufficient for one day ; and to cope with 
such exigencies as now confronted us, what a part 
the stomach does play! All in all, it w'as a situa- 
tion of a lifetime that will ever abide in the gloomy 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 303 

recesses of memory. About eight o'clock on Sun- 
day morning, April 9, as our two guns were enter- 
ing the little village of Appomattox, several cannon- 
shots sounded in quick succession immediately in 
our front. Without \\ord of command we came to 
our last halt. 

Turning out of the road we went into park, un- 
hitched our hungry horses, and awaited develop- 
ments. During the two preceding days several 
written communications had passed between Gen- 
erals Lee and Grant, of which we knew nothing. 
Our suspense, however, was soon interrupted by the 
appearance of a Confederate officer, accompanied 
by a Federal officer with long, flowing yellow hair, 
and waving a white handkerchief as they galloped 
by. This was General Custer, of cavalry fame, and 
the conspicuous hero and victim of the Indian mas- 
sacre, which bore his name, in Montana ten years 
later. 

Several sharp encounters had occurred during 
the morning, in which our men displayed tlie same 
unflinching valor, capturing in a charge a Federal 
major-general (Gregg) and two pieces of artillery; 
but now all firing had ceased, and the stillness that 
followed was oppressive. As soon as it became 
known that General Lee had surrendered, altliough 
for days it had been perfectly understood that such 
a result was inevitable, there was for a time no lit- 
tle excitement and commotion among the men. That 
we should be subjected to abhorrent humiliation 



304 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

was conceived as a matter of course, and, to avoid 
it, all sorts of efforts and plans to escape were dis- 
cussed. The one controlling influence, however, to 
allay such a feeling was the unbounded and unim- 
paired confidence in General Lee. The conduct and 
bearing of the men were characterized by the same 
sterling qualities they had always displayed. The 
only exhibition of petulance that I witnessed was by 
a staff officer who bore no scars or other evidence 
of hardships undergone, but who acquired great 
reputation after the war. He "could not submit 
to such degradation," etc., threw away his spurs 
and chafed quite dramatically. When a bystander 
suggested that we cut our way out, he objected that 
we had no arms. "We can follow those that have." 
was the reply, "and use the guns of those that fall!" 
He did not accede to the proposition ; but later I 
heard him insist that one of our drivers should let 
him have his spurs, as he, the driver, would have 
no further use for them; but he did not get the 
spurs. 

By noon, or soon thereafter, the terms of the 
surrender were made known — terms so generous, 
considerate, and unlooked-for as scarcely believed 
to be possible. None of that exposure to the gaze 
and exultation of a victorious foe, such as we had 
seen pictured in our schoolbooks, or as practised by 
conquering nations in all times. We had felt it as 
not improbable that, after an ordeal of mortifying 
exposure for the gratification of the military, we 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 305 

would be paraded through Northern cities for the 
benefit of jeering crowds. So, when we learned 
that we should be paroled, and go to our homes 
unmolested, the relief was unbounded. 

Early in the afternoon General Lee, mounted on 
"Traveler" and clad in a spotless new uniform, 
passed along on his return from an interview with 
General Grant. I stood close by the roadside, along 
which many of his old soldiers had gathered, in 
anticipation of his coming, and, in a life of more 
than three-score years, with perhaps more than ordi- 
nary opportunities of seeing inspiring sights, both 
of God's and man's creation, the impression and 
effect of General Lee's face and appearance as he 
rode by, hat in hand, stands pre-eminent. A few 
of the men started to cheer, but almost instantly 
ceased, and stood in silence with the others— all 
with heads bared. 

The favorable and entirely unexpected terms of 
surrender wonderfully restored our souls; and at 
once plans, first for returning to our homes, and 
then for starting life anew, afforded ample interest 
and entertainment. One of the privileges granted 
in the terms of surrender was the retention, by offi- 
cers and cavalrymen, of their own horses. My re- 
cent acquisition at Sailor's Creek had put me in 
possession of a horse, but to retain him was the diffi- 
culty, as I was neither officer nor cavalryman. 
Buoyed up with the excitement of bursting shells 
and the noise of battle, he had carried me out 



306 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

gamely, but, this over, there was Httle Hfe in him. I 
transferred the saddle and bridle to a horse aban- 
doned in the road with some artillery, and left my 
old benefactor standing, with limbs wide apart and 
head down. 

To accomplish my purpose of going out with a 
horse, two obstacles had first to be overcome. Be- 
ing only a cannoneer, I was not supposed to own a 
horse, so I must be something else. I laid the case 
before General Pendleton, our old neighbor in Lex- 
ington, and my former school-teacher. It was rather 
late to give me a commission, but he at once ap- 
pointed me a courier on his staff, and as such I was 
paroled, and still have the valued little paper, a fac- 
simile of which is shown opposite. 

The next difficulty to be met, the horse I had 
exchanged for was branded C.S., and, even if 
allowed to pass then, I feared would be confiscated 
later. There was a handsome sorrel, also branded 
C.S., among our battery horses, to which Lieut. 
Ned Dandridge, of General Pendleton's staff, had 
taken a fancy. For the sorrel he substituted a big, 
bony young bay of his own. I replaced the bay 
with my C.S. horse, and was now equipped for 
peace. The branded sorrel was soon taken by the 
Federals. 

The final parting of a body of men associated as 
we had been through the trying years of what had 
seemed an interminable war, after having endured 
all things as we thought; having together enjoyed 



t 



■i i 






I >^ 



f"^ 



^ 



V 



y. 






y 






^ ' •-. 



t.; 



, .V,? 









N 



^ '— 



S, 



■~r^.'¥5- 



-«, <<•.•-<•. — •'r>-^ ( 



yM 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 307 

to the utmost the gaiety in camp and on the march, 
the quick wit, the jolly jest with sharp repartee, the 
mad rush through our border towns on the heels 
of the fleeing invaders, with the women and chil- 
dren wild with delight and gratitude ; the sight of 
the mighty forces marshalling, preliminary to 
battle ; the music of the bands ; the return 
from prison of companions whose fate was un- 
known; some of us to set out for homes com- 
paratively near, some to those more or less remote ; 
others to homes amid hostile surroundings, others 
again whose homes had been destroyed and loved 
ones scattered, while there stood around us the starv- 
ing horses, our familiar and faithful friends, still 
tied to the guns in mute dejection — was an experi- 
ence not to be undergone unmoved. But buoyed 
with the consciousness that we had fought a good 
fight, continuing even after our faith was finished, 
under two commanders to whom in military skill, 
in nobility of character, and in purity of life, the rest 
of the world has produced no equal ; and last but 
not least, that the cause for which we had undergone 
it all Avas not one we thought was right but 
that we knciv was right. With associations 
such as these, and attachments the depth of which 
was realized only in later years, each to every 
other said "good-by," and on the 11th a party, con- 
sisting of Col. Edmund Pendleton of the Eighth 
Louisiana Regiment (whose family resided in an 
adjoining county), Lieut. -Col. W. T. Poague, of 



308 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

A. P. Hill's Artillery; Lieut. Jack Jordan, Sergt. 
John McCauley, Private James Lewis, and myself, 
of the Rockbridge Artillery, all mounted took the 
road leading home, occasionally encountering a 
Federal officer, attended by an orderly who passed 
us in silence. From Canal street at Lynchburg, 
along which we rode, could be seen the quiet streets 
ascending from the river, all dreary and silent, with 
a blue-coat here and there holding sway. Thence 
across the James by a bridge into Amherst, where 
we spent the night at two farm-houses and were 
most hospitably and generously entertained. At 
Balcony Falls our routes diverged, one after another 
taking a straight course home. For months after 
I reached Lexington, on the 14th, from every quar- 
ter, singly and in pairs, others came as time per- 
mitted, after the various detached commands had 
laid down their arms or Northern prisons discharged 
their emaciated inmates. The scarcity of food in 
the community was supplemented with rations is- 
sued from a Federal commissary in our town until 
gardens and truck-patches could be made available. 
After resting and fattening my bay, I sold him 
for a good price, and was thus enabled to return to 
Washington College and serve again under General 
Lee. 



APPENDIX 

Under an act of the General Assembly of Vir- 
ginia, 1898, the Camps of Confederate Veterans, 
organized in the several cities and towns of the 
Commonwealth, were authorized to prepare lists of 
the citizens of their respective counties who served 
as soldiers during the war between the States, and 
of those belonging to such companies, and these 
lists were to be duly recorded by the Clerks of the 
County Courts of the counties and kept among the 
Court Records. The following list is taken from 
this record, and is as nearly accurate as is possible 
at this date : 

ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY 

ROLL OF COMPANY 

The enrollment of the Rockbridge Artillery be- 
gan April 19, 1861, and by the 21st the company 
numbered about seventy men, and was organized 
by the election of the following officers : Captain, 
John McCausland ; and J. Bowyer Brockenbrough, 
Wm. McLaughlin and Wm. T. Poague, lieutenants. 
Captain McCausland soon thereafter was made 
lieutenant-colonel and ordered to the western part 

309 



310 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

of the State. On the 29th of April the company 
unanimously elected Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton cap- 
tain. 

The company left Lexington for the seat of war 
May 10, 1861, with two small, brass six-pounders 
obtained at the Virginia Military Institute. It was 
regularly mustered into the Confederate service at 
Staunton, Virginia, on May 11, and at once ordered 
to Harper's Ferry, where it received two more guns. 
After the First Brigade was organized, under Gen. 
Thomas J. Jackson, the Rockbridge Artillery was 
assigned to it, and continued a component part of 
the Stonewall Brigade, in touch with and occupy- 
ing the same positions with it in all its battles and 
skirmishes up to Sharpsburg. 

Upon the reorganization of the artillery, in Octo- 
ber, 1862, the battery was assigned to the First 
Regiment Virginia Artillery, under the command 
of Col. J. Thompson Brown, and continued with it 
till the close of the war. The first fight it was en- 
gaged in, and which made a part of its history, oc- 
curred July 2 near Hainesville, when General Pat- 
terson crossed the Potomac and advanced on Win- 
chester. But one piece was engaged, and this fired 
the first shot from a Confederate gun in the Shen- 
andoah Valley. 

The battery had five captains from first to last : 
First, John McCausland, afterward brigadier-gen- 
eral of cavalry ; second, Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton, 
D.D., in command from May 1, 1861, until after 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 311 

the first battle of Manassas, afterward brigadier- 
general and chief of artillery in the Army of North- 
ern Virginia; third, Wm. McLaughlin, afterward 
lieutenant-colonel of artillery, in command until 
April 2, 1862; fourth, Wm. T. Poague, afterward 
lieutenant-colonel of artillery, Army of Northern 
Virginia, in command until after the first battle of 
Fredericksburg ; fifth, Archibald Graham, from that 
time until the surrender at Appomattox, at which 
place ninety -three men and officers laid down their 
arms. 

This company had the reputation of being one 
of the finest companies in the service. So high was 
the intellectual quality of the men that forty-five 
were commissioned as officers and assigned to other 
companies in the service. Many of them reached 
high distinction. At no time during the war did 
this company want for recruits, but it was so popu- 
lar that it always had a list from which it could 
fill its ranks, which were sometimes depleted by its 
heavy casualties and numerous promotions from its 
roster. 

The following officers and men were mustered 
into the service of the Confederate States at Staun- 
ton, Virginia, on the 11th day of May, 1861 : 

*Captain W. N. Pendleton ; brigadier-general, chief 
of artillery A.N.V. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

The names with a star prefixed are the men from Rock- 
bridge County. 



312 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

*First Lieutenant J. B. Brockenbrough ; wounded 
at first Manassas; captain Baltimore Artillery, 
major of artillery A.N.V. 

* Second Lieutenant Wm. McLaughlin; captain; 
lieutenant-colonel of artillery. 

*Second Lieutenant W. T. Poague; captain; lieu- 
tenant-colonel of artillery A.N.V. ; wounded at 
second Cold Harbor ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*First Sergeant J. McD. Alexander; lieutenant 
Rockbridge Artillery ; entered cavalry. 

*Second Sergeant J. Cole Davis; lieutenant Rock- 
bridge Artillery; wounded at Port Republic; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*Third Sergeant Archibald Graham; lieutenant and 
captain Rockbridge Artillery; paroled at Appo- 
mattox. 

PRIVATES 

*Agnor, Jos. S. ; killed at Fredericksburg Decem- 
ber 13, 1862. 

*Ayres, Jas. ; discharged for physical disability 
August, 1861. 

*Ayres, N. B. ; deserted, went into Federal army. 

*Anderson, S. D. ; killed at Kernstown March 23, 
1862. 

*Beard, John; killed at Fredericksburg December 
13, 1862. 

*Beard, W. B. ; died from effects of measles sum- 
mer of 1861. 

*Bain, Samuel. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 313 

*Brockenbrough, W. N. ; corporal; transferred to 
Baltimore Light Artillery. 

*Brown, W. M. ; corporal, sergeant, lieutenant; 

wounded and captured at Gettysburg. 
*Bumpus, W. N. ; corporal ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Conner, Blain; discharged for physical disability 

in spring, 186L 
*Conner, George ; arm broken by stallion ; absent 

after winter of 1861-62. 
*Conner, Jas. A. ; wounded at Sharpsburg and 

Gettysburg; took the oath in prison and joined 

Federal army and fought Indians in Northwest. 
*Conner, John C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Coffee, A. W. 

*Craig, John B. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Crosen, W. 
*Curran, Daniel; died from disease in summer of 

1862. 
*Davis, Mark ; deserted. 
*Davis, R. G. ; died from disease in 1861. 
*Doran, John; wounded at Malvern Hill in 1862; 

disabled. 
*Dudley, R. M. 

*Ford, Henry; discharged after one year. 
*Ford, Jas. A. ; wounded. 
*Gibbs, J. T., Jr. ; wounded at Port Republic June 

22, 1862; died from disease. 
*Gold, J. M. ; captured at Gettysburg and died in 

prison. 



314 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

*Gordon, W. C. ; wounded at Fredericksburg; dis- 
abled. 

*Harris, Alex. ; captured at Gettysburg and died in 
prison. 

*Harris, Bowlin; captured at Gettysburg; kept in 
prison. 

*Hetterick, Ferdinand ; discharged after one year. 

*Henry, N. S. ; corporal, sergeant ; paroled at Ap- 
pomattox. 

*Hughes, Wm. ; discharged. 

*Hostetter, G. W. ; transferred to infantry. 

*Johnson, Lawson; died in summer of 1861. 

*Johnson, W. F. ; corporal, quartermaster sergeant ; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*Jordan, J. W. ; wounded at first Manassas ; cor- 
poral, sergeant, lieutenant ; paroled at Appomat- 
tox. 

*Leopard, Jas. ; transferred to Carpenter's battery. 

*Lewis, Henry P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Lewis, R. P. ; transferred to cavalry in spring of 
1862. 

*Leyburn, John; Heutenant Rockbridge Artillery; 
surgeon on privateer. 

*Martin, Thomas ; wounded and captured at Gettys- 
burg. 

*McCampbell, D. A. ; died from disease in Decem- 
ber, 1864. 

*McCampbell, W. H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCkier, John G. ; corporal Rockbridge Artillery; 
transferred to cavalry. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 315 

*McCorkle, J. Baxter; corporal, sergeant, lieuten- 
ant Rockbridge Artillery ; killed at first Fred- 
ericksburg. 

*Montgomery, W. G. ; killed at first Fredericksburg. 

*Moore, D. E. ; corporal, sergeant ; wounded at Win- 
chester and at Malvern Hill; paroled at Appomat- 
tox. 

*Moore, John D. ; quartermaster sergeant ; captured 
after Gettysburg, prisoner until close of war. 

*Moore, Samuel R. ; mortally wounded at Sharps- 
burg. 

*Morgan, G. W. ; sick and absent most of the time. 

*0'Rourke, Frank; wounded at Malvern Hill; de- 
serted. 

*Paxton, J. Lewis ; sergeant ; lost leg at Kernstown. 

*Phillips, James. 

*Preston, Frank ; lost an arm at Winchester May 
25, 1862; captain Virginia Military Listitute 
Company. 

*Raynes, A. G. ; detailed as miller. 

*Rader, D. P. ; wounded at Fredericksburg Decem- 
ber 13, 1862. 

*Rhodes, J. N. ; discharged, over age. 

*Smith, Joseph S. ; transferred to cavalry; killed in 
battle. 

*Smith, S. C. ; corporal, sergeant ; paroled at Ap- 
pomattox. 

* Smith, Adam ; discharged after one year. 

*Strickler, James. 



316 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

*Strickler, W. L. ; corporal, sergeant; paroled at 

Appomattox. 
*Silvey, James; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Tharp, Benjamin F. ; transferred to cavalry in 

spring of 1862. 
^Thompson, John A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Thompson, S. G. 
*Tompkins, J. F. ; corporal; detailed in Ordnance 

Department. 
*Trevy, Jacob; wounded at Gettysburg; paroled at 

Appomattox. 
*Wallace, John; killed at Kernstown March 23, 

1862. 
*Wilson, S. A. ; discharged for physical disability 

August, 1861 ; joined cavalry. 

The following joined the battery after May 11, 
1861 ; dates of enlistment being given as far as 
known : 

* Adams, Thomas T. ; enlisted 1863; discharged; 

later killed in battle, 
*Adkins, Blackburn ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Agnor, Oscar W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Agnor, John; enlisted July 21, 1861. 
*Agnor, Jonathan; enlisted July 29, 1861; killed at 

Kernstown May 25, 1862. 
*Agnor, Samuel S. ; enlisted fall of 1862. 
Alexander, Edgar S. ; enlisted September 2, 1861 ; 

lost an arm at Fredericksburg, 1862. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 317 

Alexander, Eugene; enlisted August 23, 1861; 
wounded at second Manassas; transferred to cav- 
alry. 

Armisted, Charles J. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Arnold, A. E. ; enlisted September 1, 1861 ; cor- 
poral, assistant surgeon. 

Bacon, Edloe P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Bacon, Edloe P., Jr. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Baldwin, William Ludwell, paroled at Appomattox. 

Barger, William G. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Barton, David R. ; enlisted June 27, 1861; lieuten- 
ant in Cutshaw's battery; killed. 

Barton, Robert T. ; enlisted March 7, 1862. 

Bedinger, G. R. ; July 9, 1861; transferred to in- 
fantry; killed at Gettysburg; captain. 

Bealle, Jerry T. ; enlisted November 21, 1861. 

Bell, Robert S. ; enlisted November 19, 1861 ; killed 
at Rappahannock Station. 

*Black, Benjamin F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Blain, Daniel; enlisted May 27, 1861; detailed in 
Ordnance Department; paroled at Appomattox. 

Blackford, L. M. ; enlisted September 2, 1861 ; ad- 
jutant Twenty-sixth Virginia Infantry. 

Bolhng, W. H. ; enhsted March 10, 1862; corporal. 

Boteler, A. R., Jr. ; enlisted March 1, 1862 ; wounded 
May 25, 1862. 

Boteler, Charles P.; enlisted October 23, 1861; 
transferred to cavalry. 

Boteler, Henry ; enlisted October 10, 1861 ; corporal ; 
paroled at Appomattox. 



318 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Boyd, E. Holmes; enlisted June 28, 1861; trans- 
ferred to Ordnance Department. 

Brooke, Pendleton; enlisted October 28, 1861; dis- 
charged for physical disability. 

Brown, H. C. ; enhsted 1862; detailed in Signal 
Corps. 

*Bro\vn, John L. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; killed at 
Malvern Hill. 

Brown, John M. ; enlisted March 11, 1862; wounded 
at Malvern Hill ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Bryan, Edward; enlisted November 22, 1861. 

Burwell, Lewis P.; enhsted September 21, 1861; 
transferred. 

Byers, G. Newton; enlisted August 23, 1861; cor- 
poral ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Byrd, W. H. ; enhsted August 15, 1861 ; killed at 
Kernstown March 23, 1862. 

*Byrd, William. 

*Carson, William; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; corporal; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

Caruthers, Thornton; enlisted December 21, 1862. 

*Chapin, W. T. 

Clark, James G. ; enlisted June 15, 1861 ; transferred. 

Clark, J. Gregory; enlisted July 16, 1862; trans- 
ferred. 

Cook, Richard D. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Compton, Robert K. ; enlisted July 25, 1861 ; 
paroled at Appomattox. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 319 

*Conner, Alexander; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
wounded May 25, 1862, at Winchester; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

*Conner, Daniel; enlisted July 27, 1862. 

*Conner, Fitz G. 

*Conner, Henry C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Cox, W. H. ; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

*Craig, Joseph E. ; enlisted March 2, 1863. 

*Crocken, Francis J.; enlisted March 21, 1862. 

Dandridge, A. Stephen; enlisted 1862; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

Darnall, Andrew M. ; captured at Deep Bottom. 

Darnall, Henry T. ; enHsted July 23, 1861 ; paroled 
at Appomattox. 

*Davis, Charles W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Davis, James M. M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Davis, John E. ; died from disease June, 1864. 

*Dixon, W. H. H. ; enHsted July 23, 1861 ; wounded 
December 13, 1862; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Dold, C. M. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; wounded at 
Newtown ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Efifinger, W. H. ; wounded at Sharpsburg; trans- 
ferred to engineers. 

Emmett, Michael J.; enlisted June 15, 1861; 
wounded and captured at Gettysburg. 

Eppes, W. H. ; wounded September, 1862. 

* Estill, W. C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Fairfax, Randolph; enlisted August 10, 1861; 
wounded at Malvern Hill ; killed at first Fred- 
ericksburg. 



320 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Faulkner, E. Boyd; enlisted July 23, 1862; detailed 

at headquarters. 
Fishburne, C. D. ; enlisted June 21, 1861 ; sergeant; 

lieutenant in Ordnance Department. 
Foutz, Henry; enlisted September 6, 1862; killed at 

first Fredericksburg. 
Frazer, Robert; enlisted November 28, 1862; 

wounded at first Fredericksburg. 
Friend, Ben CM.; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Fuller, John; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded at 

Malvern Hill ; killed at first Fredericksburg. 
Garnett, James M. ; enlisted July 17, 1861 ; lieuten- 
ant on staff ; captain in Ordnance Department ; 

paroled at Appomattox. 
Gibson, Henry B. ; enlisted May 13, 1862. 
Gibson, John T. ; enlisted August 14, 1861. 
Gibson, Robert A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Gilliam, William T. 

Gilmer, James B. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Gilmore, J. Harvey; enlisted March 7, 1862; chap- 
lain. 
*Ginger, George A.; enlisted March 6, 1862; 

wounded at Newtown ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Ginger, W. L. ; enlisted March 6, 1862; wounded 

and captured at Gettysburg; prisoner till close of 

war. 
*Gold, Alfred; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded at 

second Fredericksburg. 
Gooch, James T. ; transferred from engineers in 

1863; paroled at Appomattox. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 321 

*Goul, John M. ; enlisted June 14, 1861 ; chaplain 
A.N.V. ; died of fever in service. 

*Gray, O. P.; enlisted March 21, 1862; killed at 
Kernstown March 23, 1862. 

Gregory, John M. ; enlisted September 7, 1861 ; 
wounded May 25, 1862; captain in Ordnance De- 
partment. 

*Green, Thomas; enlisted 1862; transferred. 

*Green, Zach. ; enlisted 1862; transferred. 

Gross, Charles; enlisted July 27, 1862. 

*Hall, John F. ; enlisted July 22i, 1861 ; died near 
Richmond, 1862. 

Heiskell, J. Campbell; enlisted February 9, 1862; 
wounded in 1864; paroled at Appomattox. 

Heiskell, J. P.; enlisted 1862; discharged for physi- 
cal disability. 

*Herndon, Francis T. ; enlisted March 31, 1862; 
killed at Malvern Hill. 

Hitner, John K. ; enlisted March 17, 1862 ; wounded. 

*Holmes, John A.; enlisted March 11, 1862. 

*Houston, James Rutherford; enlisted July 23, 
1861. 

Houston. William W. ; enlisted August 10, 1861; 
chaplain A.N.V. 

Hughes, Wilham; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

Hummerickhouse, John R. ; enlisted March 28, 
1862. 

Hyde, Edward H. ; enlisted March 28, 1862; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

Johnson, Thomas E. 



322 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Jones, Beverly R. ; enlisted July 3, 1861. 

Kean, Otho G. ; enlisted after capture at Vicksburg; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

Kean, William C. ; enlisted fall of 1861 ; transferred. 

*Knick, William; enlisted August 11, 1862; mor- 
tally wounded at second Fredericksburg. 

Lacy, Richard B. 

Lacy, William S. ; enlisted March 17, 1862; de- 
tailed in Signal Service; chaplain. 

Lawson, Joseph; enlisted July 20, 1863. 

Lawson, William; enlisted July 20, 1863. 

Leathers, John P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Lecky, John H. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; transferred 
to cavalry. 

Lee, Robert E., Jr.; enlisted March 26, 1862; lieu- 
tenant on staff, and captain. 

*Leech, James M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Letcher, Samuel H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Levvis, James P. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; wounded. 

Lewis, Nicholas H. ; enlisted June 17, 1861. 

*Link, David; transferred from Rice's battery. 

Luke, Williamson; enlisted October 7, 1861; soon 
transferred to cavalry. 

*McAlpin, Joseph; enlisted March 3, 1862 ; mortally 
wounded at first Fredericksburg. 

*McCauley, John E. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; cor- 
poral, sergeant; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCauley, Wilham H. ; transferred from infantry; 
corporal; killed April 7, 1865. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 323 

*McClintic, W. S. ; enlisted October 4, 1861 ; 
wounded ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCorkle, Tazwell E. ; enlisted in Hampden-Sid- 
ney Company in 1861 ; captured at Rich Moun- 
tain; joined battery in 1864. 

*McCorkle, Thomas E. ; enhsted March 9, 1862; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCorkle, William A.; enhsted July 23, 1861; 
paroled at x\ppomattox. 

*McCrum, R. Barton; paroled at Appomattox. 

McGuire, Hugh H., Jr.; enlisted March 10; trans- 
ferred to cavalry ; captain ; killed. 

McKim, Robert B. ; enlisted July 6, 1861 ; killed at 
Winchester May 25, 1862. 

Macon, Lyttleton S. ; enlisted June 27, 1861 ; cor- 
poral, sergeant ; discharged. 

Magruder, Davenport D. ; enlisted March 1, 1862; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

Magruder, Horatio E. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Marshall, John J. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Marshall, Oscar M. ; enlisted March 6, 1862. 

Massie, John Livingstone; enlisted May 15, 1861; 
captain of artillery ; killed. 

*Mateer, Samuel L. ; enhsted January 11, 1863; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

Maury, Magruder; enlisted in fall of 1861; trans- 
ferred to cavalry. 

Maury, Thompson B. ; enlisted in fall of 1861 ; de- 
tailed in Signal Service. 



324 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Meade, Francis A.; enlisted November, 1862; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

Merrick, Alfred D. ; enlisted December 30, 1861. 

Minor, Charles; enlisted November 16, 1861; be- 
came lieutenant of engineers. 

Minor, C. N. Berkeley; enlisted July 27. 1861 ; be- 
came lieutenant of engineers. 

Minor, Launcelot ; wounded at Cumberland Church. 

*Moore, Edward A.; enlisted March 3, 1862; 
wounded at Sharpsburg and twice at second Cold 
Harbor ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Moore, John H. ; transferred from Rockbridge 
Rifles in spring of 1861; wounded; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

*Moore, John L. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; wounded. 

*Mooterspaugh, William; enlisted 1862; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

Montgomery, Ben T. ; transferred from another 
battery ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Myers, John M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Nelson, Francis K. ; enlisted May 17, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred to Albemarle Light Horse. 

Nelson, Kinloch ; transferred from Albemarle Light 
Horse ; disabled -by caisson turning over on him ; 
lieutenant Ordnance Department. 

Nelson, Philip; enlisted July 27, 1861; discharged 
by furnishing substitute. 

*Nicely, George H. ; enlisted March 7, 1862; died 
from disease, 1864. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 325 

*Nicely, James W. ; enlisted Alarch 7, 1862; de- 
serted. 

*Nicely, John F. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; wounded 
at Port Republic. 

Otey, William M. ; enlisted 1862 ; transferred soon 
thereafter. 

Packard, Joseph; enlisted July 7, 1861; corporal; 
lieutenant Ordnance Department. 

Packard, Walter J. ; enlisted October 23, 1861 ; died 
summer of 1862. 

Page, Richard C. M. ; enlisted July 14, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred ; captain ; major artillery. 

Page, R. Powell; enlisted May 1, 1864; detailed 
courier to Colonel Carter. 

Paine, Henry M. 

*Paine, Henry R. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; corporal, 
sergeant ; killed at second ^^lanassas. 

Paine, James A. 

*Paxton, Samuel A.: enlisted Alarch 7, 1862. 

Pendleton, Dudley D. ; enlisted June 19, 1861 ; cap- 
tain and assistant adjutant-general, artillery 
A.N.V. 

*Pleasants, Robert A. ; enlisted March 3, 1863. 

Pollard, James G. ; enlisted July 27, 1864; paroled 
at Appomattox. 

Porter, Mouina G. ; enlisted September 24, 1861 ; 
detailed courier. 

*Phillips, Charles ; detailed in Signal Service. 
*Pugh, George W. ; enlisted March 6, 1862; paroled 
at Appomattox. 



326 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

*Pugh, John A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Rawlings, James M. 

*Rentzell, George W. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; 

wounded at Kernstown and disabled. 
*Robertson, John W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Robinson, Arthur ; enlisted March 28, 1 862 ; mor- 
tally wounded at first Fredericksburg. 
*Root, Erastus C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Ruffin, Jefferson; transferred from another battery; 

paroled at Appomattox. 
Rutledge, Charles A. ; enlisted November 3, 1861 ; 

transferred. 
*Sandford, James; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Saville, John; enlisted July 23, 1861; transferred 

to cavalry; died in service. 
*Shaner, Joseph F. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; wounded 

at first Fredericksburg; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Shaw, Campbell A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
* Shoulder, Jacob M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Singleton, William F. ; enlisted June 3, 1861 ; 

wounded and captured at Port Republic. 
*Schammerhorn, John G. 
Smith, J. Howard; enlisted September 2, 1861; 

lieutenant in Ordnance Department. 
Smith, James P. ; enlisted July 9, 1861 ; lieutenant 

and captain on staff of General Jackson. 
Smith, James Morrison. 
Smith, Summerfield ; enlisted September 2, 1861; 

died from disease. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 327 

Stuart, G. W. C. ; enlisted May 13, 1862; wounded 
May 25, 1862; killed at second Fredericksburg. 
*Strickler, Joseph; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Stuart, W. C. ; wounded at second Cold Harbor; 

paroled at Appomattox. 
Swan, Minor W. ; enlisted August 15, 1863 ; paroled 

at Appomattox. 
Swan, Robert W. 
*Swisher, Benjamin R. ; enlisted March 3, 1862 ; 

paroled at Appomattox. 
*Swisher, George W. ; enhsted March 3, 1862; 

wounded May 25, 1862 ; paroled at xA.ppomattox. 

* Swisher, Samuel S. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Tate, James F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Taylor, Charles F. 

Taylor, Stevens M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Thompson, Ambrose; died July, 1864. 

*Thompson, Lucas P.; enlisted August 15, 1861; 
paroled at /\ppomattox. 

Tidball, Thomas H. ; enlisted March 3, 1862 ; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

*Timberlake, Francis H. 

*Tomlinson, James W. ; enlisted July 23. 1861. 

Trice, Leroy F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Trueheart, Charles W. ; enlisted October 24, 1861; 
corporal, assistant surgeon. 

Tyler, D. Gardner ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Tyler, John Alexander; enlisted April, 1865; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

*Van Pelt, Robert: enlisted July 23, 1861. 



328 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Veers, Charles O. ; enlisted September 10, 1861; 
transferred to cavalry soon thereafter. 

*Vest, Andrew J.; enlisted July 23, 1861; dis- 
charged. 

*Wade, Thomas M. ; enlisted March 7, 1862; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

* Walker, George A. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; trans- 

ferred to Carpenter's battery. 

*Walker, James S. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred to Carpenter's battery. 

*Walker, John W. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred to Carpenter's battery. 

Whitt, Algernon S. ; enlisted August 8, 1861 ; cor- 
poral ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*White, William H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Williams, John J.; enlisted July 15, 1861; trans- 
ferred to Chew's battery. 

* Williamson, Thomas; wounded at Gettysburg; 

escaped at Appomattox with the cavalry. 
*Williamson, William G. ; enlisted July 5, 1861 ; 

captain of engineers. 
*Wilson, Calvin. 
*Wilson, John; enlisted July 22, 1861; prisoner 

after Gettysburg; took the oath. 
*Wiseman, William; enlisted March 10, 1862. 
*Wilson, Samuel A.; enlisted March 3, 1862; 

wounded at Gettysburg ; captured : died in prison. 
*Wilson, William M. ; enlisted August 12, 1861 ; 

corporal. 
Winston, Robert B. ; enlisted August 25, 1861. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 329 

*Withrow, John; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Woody, Henry; transferred from infantry, 1864; 

deserted. 
*Wright, John W. ; enhsted 1864; wounded and 

disabled at Spottsylvania Court House. 
Young, Charles E. ; enlisted March 17, 1862. 

The Rockbridge Artillery took part in the follow- 
ing engagaments : 

Hainesville, July 2, 1861. 
First Manassas, July 21, 1861. 
Kernstown, March 23, 1862. 
Winchester, May 25, 1862. 
Charlestown, May, 1862. 
Port Republic, June 8 and 9, 1862. 
White Oak Swamp. June 30, and Malvern Hill, 
July 1, 1862. 

Cedar Run, .Vugust 9, 1862. 

Second Manassas, August 28, 29 and 30, 1862. 

Harper's Ferry, September 15, 1862. 

Sharpsburg, September 17, 1862. 

First Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862. 

Second Fredericksburg, May 2 and 3, 1863. 

Winchester, June 14, 1863. 

Gettysburg, July 2 and 3. 1863. 

Rappahannock Bridge, November 9, 1863. 

Mine Run, November 27, 1863. 

Spottsylvania Court House, May 12, 1864. 

Cold Harbor, June 3, 1864. 

Deep Bottom, July 27, 1864. 



330 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

New Market Heights, September, 1864. 

Fort Gilmore, 1864. 

Cumberland Church, April 7, 1865. 

The battery saw much service in fighting gunboats 
on James River, and took part in many skirmishes 
not mentioned. 

The number of men, enrolled as above, is three 
hundred and five (305), of whom one hundred and 
seventy-three (173) were from the county of Rock- 
bridge. Of the remainder, a large part were stu- 
dents, college graduates, University of Virginia men, 
and some divinity students. These, with the sturdy 
men from among the farmers and business men of 
Rockbridge, made up a company admirably fitted 
for the artillery service. 

The efficiency of the battery was due in no small 
part to its capacity for rapid marching and maneu- 
vering, and this to the care and management of the 
horses mainly by men from this county. In the 
spring of 1862 a large number of men was recruited 
for the battery, whose names are not on the above 
roll, and some of whom were engaged in the battle 
of Kernstown. In April, 1862, while encamped at 
Swift Run Gap, authority was given by General 
Jackson to reorganize the battery, making three 
companies thereof, with the view to form a battalion. 
Immediately after two companies had been organ- 
ized by the election of officers, the authority for mak- 
ing three companies was revoked, and an order is- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 331 

sued to form one company only, and giving to all 
the men not embraced in this one company the priv- 
ilege of selecting a company in any branch of the 
service. A large number of men, thus temporarily 
connected with the Rockbridge Artillery, availed 
themselves of this privilege whose names do not 
appear on the above roll. It would now be impossi- 
ble to make up this list. 

RECAPITULATION 

Enrolled as above, three hundred and five (305). 

Number from Rockbridge County, one hundred 
and seventy-three (173). 

Killed in battle, twenty-three (23). 

Died of disease contracted in service, sixteen (16). 

Wounded more or less severely, forty-nine (49). 

Slightly wounded, names not given, about fifty 
(50). 

Discharged from service for disability incurred 
therein, ten (10). 

Took the oath of allegiance to Federal Govern- 
ment while in prison, two (2). 

Deserted, five (5). 

Promoted to be commissioned officers, thirty-nine 

(39). 

Paroled at Appomattox, nmety-three (93). 

So great was the loss of horses, there having 
been over a hundred in this battery killed in battle, 
that during the last year of the war they were un- 
hitched from the guns after going into action and 
taken to the rear for safety. 



631 









^^ ^- .V 









^^ 


*.0 N 


^ ° " ^V 


> 


% 


/- 

•i^ - 


* 


#' 




/^ 




<:> -' I 


\ 


. N 


^ , ^r. 



^'^K^' 

<>^ 

/ ^ 














-■^ 


V 


^^ 


0' 


V 


.^ 


-7-^ 






















'a^ 


<> / 


/ .^ 


"oo^ ^ 


xOc-. 


. - N^ ■^- ^ 




>V' ^. 




'c^ \' ■'. ' 













.^0' s~^ 
u ^ 






^^ 



^- 






^ .0^ 



>p°^. 












,^^' 



* .A 



"^^ v^ 



K^" 






I -f. 






s^ 



,-^ -7*^. 



^^ o:^> 



,^^ ''t. 



n^ v^ 






•'i* 






O 0' 






